Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’ve been thinking about love a lot.”

Shiori said this to Yachiyo. It was unannounced, like commenting today’s weather. The student council room was quiet as usual and their job didn’t seem to finish anytime soon. Yachiyo was doing weekly expense report while Shiori stayed behind because she had to clean up some documents for the next meeting.

"Really?" came the offhanded reply from Yachiyo.

“Is that weird?” Shiori asked again. She meant it too. “Maybe this has something to do with our play? Or maybe I’m reading too many romance novels and my view of love become skewed?” Shiori sent a lingering look to the orange-colored sky outside the window, breathing. “Or maybe I'm curious because I see how you’re in love with my sister?”

Yachiyo stopped typing as she gave a bemused look to Shiori. “Loving your sister is a horrible decision I've ever made,” Yachiyo replied with a laugh. She stood from her chair, taking a leisure step to Shiori while stretching her arms. Shiori didn’t say anything when Yachiyo took her face in her hands. “Where did this come from?”

“I’m just thinking,” Shiori averted her gaze from Yachiyo. “A lot. And it's starting to bother me.”

“The love or the person you’re in love with?”

Shiori looked up, her mouth hung ajar. Denial was ready on the tip of her tongue. “Both…” she sighed, almost sounding like she’s disappointed with herself.

Yachiyo only smiled. There’s a subtle gentleness in those eyes, in the curve of Yachiyo’s lips, and Shiori realized that she looked like an idiot now. The hum from the air conditioner wasn’t enough to calm the nervous beating of her heart. Shiori wanted to bail, but Yachiyo would never let this one go.

“You can tell her.”

Shiori blinked. “What?” She heard Yachiyo mentioned Akira’s name. Or maybe that’s just her mind playing tricks on her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear that.”

“You can tell Akira-senpai,” Yachiyo told her again. She’s being gentle. Her fingers curled on Shiori’s hair and Shiori watched, almost mystified. “She probably doesn’t get the point though.”

“Yachiyo-senpai, please.”

Yachiyo released her grip from Shiori, laughing a little. “It’s true. Akira-senpai only cares about the stage you could say that she has a complex about it too. And she’s the last person on earth to fall in love with but, hey, Fumi is stubborn and annoying but that doesn’t stop me from dating her,” Yachiyo added with a shrug.

A blush crept its way across Shiori’s face. An awkward smile curled on her lips; it’s just as painful as she tried to think more clearly. I should confess, she mulled, and it sounded better in her head. Shiori could just stand there, thinking, rehearsing Belle’s line as she watched the Beast dying.

I love you with all my heart, that was Belle’s confession and, oddly enough, it resonated with her.

Shiori had been thinking too much about love.

She just didn’t expect that she would fall so easily.

*

Shiori didn’t stop thinking.

It’d been three days since she told Yachiyo about it. Or was it seven? She didn’t remember and her nerves were on fire. Her school life was already stressful enough and this additional baggage only made everything complicated than it needed to be.

But she can’t just barge into Akira’s room and say I love you and made a fool of herself. Their dynamic wasn’t like that and it’d be unfair to subject the others to her personal affair.

So, Shiori kept it to herself. There’s no need to confess anything when there were other important things at hand.

She attended the student council, sitting next to Yachiyo, and her eyes were straying to Akira’s direction far too many times. The president was in the middle of discussing something with Michiru—must be pressing matters because Akira’s expression was looking serious. Meifan and Yachiyo were talking about the monthly budget report.

Shiori happily voiced her opinion when Meifan asked her. Shiori would happily join any conversation with her seniors because that's the last thing she could provide.

And while the respect was mutual, there were times where Shiori thought that she knew nothing about them, who were they, or what they’re doing when it’s still four of them. She tried to blend in, to be a good underclassman, to live up her title as Frau Jade. Alas, that’s as far as she could go.

Her eyes landed on Akira, and she remembered what Meifan told Yachiyo a few weeks ago when Yachiyo took the leap of faith and ran back to Fumi. While Meifan was somewhat clear about her feelings about Akira, Shiori was still in the middle. It’s normal for a junior high schooler like her to be uncertain about her feelings.

Things happened. Maybe she adored Akira, maybe she had a little crush on Akira, but instead of speaking out, she preferred to keep everything to herself. Akira was unreachable, and Shiori would never be the idiot who did the confessing. Confession would complicate things, and Shiori wasn’t that cruel to subject everyone else to that.

Her fingers swiped over her phone screen. The reminders cruelly popped up and Shiori sighed. She wanted to talk to Fumi, but there’s no easy way to explain to Fumi about what she had in mind. Well, Fumi might not be excited to hear about this either.

The meeting ended soon after that. Yachiyo walked out with Meifan with Meifan happily discussing what they’re going to have for dinner tonight, Michiru said that she had to buy something and would return late to the dorm, and the only ones left were Akira and Shiori.

Akira was blissfully ignorant to whatever Shiori was feeling. Her attention was fully on the documents before her, a serious frown on her forehead, unaware that the young girl had been stealing glances to her for too many times.

“Are you going to stay until late, Yukishiro-senpai?” Shiori finally greeted. This was their first interaction for today, which was an achievement in itself because Shiori rarely initiated the conversation.

“Probably,” Akira said, still looking at the documents. When Akira turned to look at her, Shiori shivered as the temperature suddenly felt colder. “Why are you still here?”

The girl shifted on her heels. Her throat felt parched. “To clean up?” she offered her answer. “Should I help you with those?” Shiori pointed at the unchecked documents, “it’s faster than checking everything on your own.”

Akira only gave a curt nod. “Sure.”

It’s stupid to feel so happy for a trivial thing like this. And yet, it took a considerable effort from Shiori to stop herself from smiling too much. This was a serious matter, after all. She gingerly took a seat beside Akira and began sorting.

However, Shiori’s eyes were cheaters because she always found a way to look at Akira. It’s weird, looking at Akira in a way that made her feel a lot of things, fascination for the most of it. She’s panicking, just a bit, and her heart was beating a bit too unsteady until Shiori didn’t want to open her mouth lest Akira would notice it. But Shiori managed to work on her assignments moderately smooth. She dragged her eyes from Akira’s face to the jumbled numbers and figures, with her mind trying to arrange the puzzle that’s the mess of her feelings and didn’t realize that Akira had stopped moving.

“Shiori, can you bring me aspirin?”

The girl blinked. Her daydream had cut out rather abruptly. “Sorry?”

Akira was leaning on her chair; one hand was on the side of her head. The frown was there, once serious now morphed to something more like pain. Akira’s eyes were closed as her fingers massaged the side of her temple, a subtle attempt to ease the throbbing.

“O-okay. Just wait a moment,” Shiori sprung up from her chair and dashed to the cupboard where Meifan stored the first aid box. She took the bottle in one hand and a glass of water in another, carefully rushing back to Akira. The older girl popped pills into her mouth, swallowing the water in big gulps, as Shiori watched.

“Are you okay?”

Akira shrugged. “Eventually.”

“You work too hard,” Shiori pressed. She observed Akira’s face, noticing the dark lines under the president’s eyes that barely covered under light make-ups.

“I’m fine,” Akira answered, and it’s clear that she tried not to wince. Shiori could only stare. “I just didn’t have enough sleep,” she added. “But you don’t have to worry. This will be gone in a second. I need to finish signing these papers so we can distribute them to other departments tomorrow.”

“You need to rest.”

“I don’t.”

Shiori resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Stop being so stubborn!” it almost sounded like a scolding, even Akira was raising her brows in surprise. Shiori bit her lower lip, panic started to bubble in her stomach. “I mean, you shouldn’t sacrifice your health so you can do everything,” her fingers curled tightly on her skirt as she tried to alleviate her nervousness. The color in Akira’s eyes was sharp and disarming. “I’m here to help you.”

The sound that came out from her mouth was soft, unnecessarily sounded like a beg. Shiori closed her eyes for a moment.

“Sit over there,” Akira said after a while. The young girl looked up to see that Akira was pointing at the sofa beside the cupboard.

“Sure, but why?”

Akira already walked to the sofa, her shoulder brushed against Shiori’s. “You said you want to help me,” Akira stated without looking at the girl. Then, she sat on the sofa, patting the space right next to her in silence.

Shiori already approached Akira, didn’t have any idea what Akira possibly had in mind, but she sat beside Akira and waited. What happened next wasn’t what she’s expecting.

“Maybe I’m a bit tired,” Akira spoke out, her head on Shiori’s lap, as she scooted to make a room to lie down. Her eyes remained placid as she looked at Shiori’s wide ones, seemingly unaware that she flustered the young girl with this unpredictable turn of event. “Your face looks a bit red, are you okay?”

Shiori shook her head with a speed that almost broke her neck. Akira was meticulous, but she also seemed terrible in reading the mood. “I’m fine!” the girl squeaked.

Akira didn’t offer anything before letting out a sigh and closing her eyes. It was slow; Akira had a lot on her shoulders and this moment probably the brief respite that she deserved.

Shiori, for some pure, unadulterated reason, was having an inner turmoil. When she told Akira that she’s willing to help, she didn’t think that it'd be like this. Did Akira already expect Shiori to be okay with that?

But then she looked down, staring at Akira’s face, and noticed that the older girl was looking considerably relaxed. The frown had mellowed down; those usually pursed lips were slightly open as Akira breathed slowly. There’s something unequivocally apologetic growing in her heart as seconds went by, as she watched Akira without her armor, being a vulnerable human, and Shiori realized that she still had to tell Akira what she’s feeling.

She brushed Akira’s bangs. Akira was beautiful—the kind of beautiful that would overwhelm you if you’re not being careful and Shiori wondered if Akira realized that. Fingers traced down Akira’s face, tips ghosting on the skin almost too softly as if they’re afraid to mar the creation that God had spent a little too much time to perfect.

Shiori felt a slight ache in her heart as she thought about how different she and Akira were, the realization that they existed on the opposite of the spectrum, and maybe she’d never able to tell Akira what she’d been feeling.

“Yuki—” she stopped. Her heart was beating a little bit too fast now. Her lips trembled as another syllable rolled out. “…Akira.”

That name tasted like mystery, warm against her tongue, but it also sent shivers down her spine. Shiori wished for Akira to wake up because she didn’t want to fall into this hole further than she had to be. Her voice carried one name, “Akira,” and no one answered her still. She stared at Akira and the terrible urge returned to her, terrifying Shiori at an alarming rate. It’s hard because she knew exactly why. Shiori’s fingers drift on top Akira’s closed eyes and stayed there.

It was too much, god she couldn’t take this.

“Forgive me.”

Somewhere in this moment, her brain kind of exploded as she dipped down to press her lips to Akira. It was a simple kiss, just a pressing of lips, and Shiori tried to remember that Akira’s lips were just as soft as she imagined they’d be. She shouldn’t be doing this, but there’s a comfort in anonymity as she kissed Akira in secret, as she shut down any excuses and just enjoyed whatever little time she had.

She didn’t know if she’s in love with Akira.

But she knew that she couldn’t lie anymore.

*

Akira never let any sickness hindering her work, so she chose to ignore it. It was easier to ignore the headache at first, but it got considerably worse today. It almost made her unable to differentiate numbers and sentences. She took two pills of aspirin but they didn’t seem to work. Shiori, unfortunately, was being more assertive than usual and Akira wasn’t in the mood to argue with her.

So, Akira relented. It was a moment of weakness and Akira excused it as the medicine finally taking effect on her body. The couch was a bit too small for both of them. Akira’s legs were on the floor while her head rested on Shiori’s lap, and Akira finally was able to breathe. The pain had subsided to a dull, constant throb; Shiori smelled like melon and honey, it was comforting, and Akira realized how tired she’d been.

For the record,

Akira was awake.

She heard Shiori called her name-- not the usual Yukishiro-senpai but as Akira. Just Akira. She knew Shiori’s hand was on covering her eyes. What she wasn’t expecting was having something soft pressing against her mouth. If she was being rational, she would’ve assumed that Shiori was trying to feed her something.

But Akira knew it wasn’t.

What she knew: Shiori’s breathing felt like a gentle caress against her face, and Shiori’s lips tasted like strawberry. They’re soft, trembling, uncertain for a brief moment before they pressed against Akira’s lips. There’s a sigh, a mumble, and Akira’s common sense that screamed you need to stop this madness now, but everything was forgotten, swept down under the softness of Shiori’s kiss.

Akira always thought that she had everything under control. This one, however, was not a part of her routine.

It scared her a little.

*

There’s a giggle as she passed. It sounded obnoxious. Meifan squinted at the glaring sunlight coming from the window. Her steps were hurried, her mind was all over the place. Something heavy was coiling on her chest as fingers were dangerously from snapping her phone to two.

This is the worst.

She thought to herself, shoes skidded along the marble floor. This school was ridiculously huge and Meifan’s patience was growing thin. She bumped to other students. It was her fault but she’s the Frau Rubin so she’s receiving the apology instead.

The late summer afternoon air was humid against her face as she stepped into the courtyard. Running sounded like a grand idea. She could run the school grounds until her legs felt like they’re ready to fall off their joints and forget how… annoying everything was. She could invite Yachiyo too although she already knew that Yachiyo would shoot that idea point-blank.

Her mind was ready to overheat until she realized that she already stood in front of her room, and that was the cue for Meifan to stop thinking. Closing her eyes, Meifan took a deep breath and started counting, calming her heart so it’d return to its normal beat. It’s just her imagination, the sunlight was too bright and making her see things she’s not supposed to see.

Nothing happened. It was all in her head.

Meifan opened the door—

“I love you, you know.”

Yachiyo’s voice was sickeningly sweet as she talked to her phone, and Meifan just stopped, staring at Yachiyo, trying to make sense of the situation. Ah right, Yachiyo and Fumi were dating. How could she forget that?

Meifan stepped in, didn’t bother to greet Yachiyo, and just threw herself to the bed. If she could focus on breathing, maybe she could focus on sleeping next.

She was already drifting when a foreign weight plopped next to her. The gooseberries scent that followed after did well to calm her nerves.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk,” Meifan muttered, burying her face to the pillow. That entire powerwalk was making her tired; her face was hot and her brain wasn’t correctly wired to her mouth.

The weight didn’t disappear, it pressed against her, and soon enough, Meifan felt a pair of arms pulling her to a hug. Grunting, she opened one eye to see Yachiyo’s face cradled on her shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Just had a hunch that you need some hugs.”

Meifan growled. “I’m not a kid.”

“Cuddles is for everyone, even for a grumpy Meifan.”

Meifan sighed, “I hate you.”

The hug did make her feel calm, somewhat, but Meifan would never say it. Her breathing came in slow as she stared at the ceiling.

Yachiyo’s voice was gentle as she spoke. “Did you find your precious, ultra-rare keychain in the council room?”

“It was there, but I didn’t go inside.”

“Why?”

A pregnant pause, until Meifan spoke again, “I saw Shiori kissing Akira-san.”

The empty student council room, the late afternoon sunlight that engulfed everything in its orange ray, Akira, and Shiori with her golden hair cascading her face as she kissed the sleeping beauty, and thousands of different things that made a mess inside her mind. Meifan’s chest constricted again. She frowned

“You know,” Yachiyo drawled, snuggling to Meifan, and fondly caressed the girl’s hair as if she’s comforting a lost child. “Maybe Shiori has decided.”

She knew that, however, the jealousy still lingered.

“Or maybe I’m just seeing things,” she said, sounding like she’s trying to trust her own words.

The sad thing? Meifan knew it was just a lie. She could even feel it scalding against her tongue because she knew that Shiori was indeed kissing Akira, how time seemed to move a little too fast, and how her heart was starting to feel like a burden as she watched things unfold before her.

Akira was someone that she tried to surpass, someone that she looked up the most, someone that’s worth her loyalty. Akira was the center of Meifan’s gravity; it was supposed to be like that until Shiori came.

Meifan’s stomach was cramped with knots.

It felt like jealousy.

And Meifan didn’t like what it did to her.

Chapter Text

“Good work today.”

Shiori stopped. Her body half bent. She’s about to pick on her towel when someone already offered one to her. She looked up and held her breath, a breath that almost made her head dizzy, as her eyes landed on the stern face of Yukishiro Akira.

“Oh, thank you,” Shiori replied, gingerly accepted the towel. As usual, Akira didn’t bother to reply and proceeded to return practicing again. “Yukishiro-senpai,” Shiori couldn’t stop it as her mouth moved faster than her brain. “Are you okay?” she almost bit on her tongue when Akira stared back at her. “Your headache, I mean!”

“It should be fine today,” again with the curt answer. It was no secret that Akira was never a fan of small talk and Shiori should’ve known that fact well by now. Yet, somehow, Shiori wanted to keep to talk to Akira—to have Akira to look at her, to have Akira’s attention on her, even if it’s just for a short while.

“I bought a new blend of tea yesterday. If you don’t mind, I’ll brew a cup for you once we get to the student council room,” Shiori offered. “It should help if your head still hurt.” She tried to remain calm, but her fingers were clutching on the towel so hard. She looked up, carefully, and almost fidgeted on her heels when she realized that Akira’s expression was unreadable.

Was she mad? Annoyed? Or maybe—

“I’m okay with that.”

“Huh?”

“That new blend you’re speaking of,” Akira sighed, almost like she didn’t want to repeat herself. “You may serve it.”

It was too childish of her to get so happy over a simple agreement, but Shiori was smiling too much until her cheeks hurt and her heart almost burst in excitement.

“Okay! I-I'm looking forward to it.”

“Oh, is Shiori playing favorite?”

Yachiyo’s voice was like a reminder for Shiori that the rehearsal was still ongoing, everyone else was probably waiting for them, and the other Edels were listening to what she said to Akira. Just as she predicted, Yachiyo was visibly grinning at her.

“You’re just going to make it for Akira-senpai? Am I not cool enough to get your undivided attention?”

Again, Shiori's mouth worked faster than her brain.

“It’s not like that! O-of course I’m planning to make it for everyone, not just Yukishiro-senpai!”

Yachiyo raised a knowing brow. “It didn’t sound like that from what I heard though.”

Shiori didn’t know which one infuriated her the most: Yachiyo’s seemingly supernatural ability to expose people or her lame excuse. Normally, Meifan would be the first to scold Yachiyo to tone down the teasing but the girl was still practicing, focusing on her dance, seemingly unbothered with the commotion.

“Stop teasing her, Yachiyo,” Michiru finally took the initiative to spare Shiori from further embarrassment as she sent a smile to the flustered girl. “You always have a good taste, Shiori. I can’t wait for it,” she said with her usual cheerful tone. Then, she turned her attention to Meifan. “You think so too, right, Meifan?”

Meifan finally stopped moving. It’s as if she’s reluctant to do it too. The girl turned to face them and only offered a small nod. Even her smile wasn’t as bright as usual. “Of course,” she said slowly, eyes lingered on Shiori for a short while before she diverted her attention to Akira. “Can you help me with the Pas de Deux in that choreo, Akira-san? I can’t seem to get the movement right.”

“You didn’t have that trouble on yesterday’s practice,” Akira commented, but she already walked to Meifan to help the girl.

“I want to get better,” Meifan said with a smile; an easier smile, as if Akira’s closeness was able to make her feel better. “My goal is to surpass you, after all.”

Akira only offered a scoff, already taking a position right beside Meifan. “Try me, Meifan.”

There’s no need for music as Akira and Meifan already immersed themselves in the choreography. Their conversation stopped just as they began to move, in a silent fluidity of beauty and grace, where Akira and Meifan already took on their roles. Akira’s hands were on Meifan’s waist as the girl did her pirouette, focusing on nothing but each other, moving in complete unison, as Shiori could only watch from the side.

She’d seen Akira and Meifan dancing together for many times; this one shouldn’t be different from their usual practice. One thing that Shiori realized was, however, how her chest felt rather heavy just from seeing them like that.

“Both of them are great huh?”

She heard a voice. It could be Yachiyo or Michiru, but Shiori didn’t bother to look, not when Meifan was pulling Akira in a rather intimate gesture and Shiori was unable to segregate whether it’s one of the dance moves or just Meifan’s excuse to have Akira all for herself—

Except not, Shiori reminded herself.

Akira didn’t belong to anyone, not to her, not to Meifan. Akira belonged to this academy with her responsibilities as the student council president and Frau Platin. Shiori should’ve never thought that in the first place.

Jealousy was never a good distraction.

*

“You did that on purpose.”

Meifan blinked. She didn’t quite catch that. “What?”

“What you did with Akira-senpai,” Yachiyo repeated. They’re back in their room. Meifan was in the middle of doing her homework and Yachiyo was… doing whatever she liked to do. “You,” she pointed Meifan with the brush of her nail polish, waving it like a fair warning, “tried to make Shiori jealous.”

Yachiyo was always the first to realize when something went wrong. It was easier to talk but Meifan didn’t want to appear vulnerable in front of Yachiyo today; too many arguments, too many excuses, and she’s not ready for any of those.

Meifan dropped her pen. “What’s wrong in asking Akira-san’s help with the dance? Naturally, I want to give the best performance.”

“It’s not wrong, but I can see that you exaggerated some of the moves,” Yachiyo continued. Meifan could feel eyes on her back. “The last dip. We both know that you didn’t have to put your face so close to Akira-senpai.”

There’s a pause. Meifan peered over her shoulder. Yachiyo gave her a wry smile.

“It was a part of the choreo.”

“So you don’t deny that you did that on purpose?”

Meifan listened to the ticking clock, tried to work on her homework for some more until she realized that her brain was in no condition to solve any of it. She closed her book and dropped to her bed, refusing to look at Yachiyo and stared at the ceiling instead.

“How long have you been waiting to ask me this?”

“Since you told me that you saw Shiori kissing Akira-senpai.”

Meifan groaned, annoyed for no reason. “Am I that obvious to you?” she protested, exasperated.

Yachiyo gave her a look before returning to polish the nails on her left hand. “You need to give me more challenge or I’ll grow bored of you.”

“This is a serious matter!”

“Serious matter about what? That you need to make a Shiori jealous because she kissed Akira-senpai first?”                       

Meifan narrowed her eyes. “And what are you going to about it?”

She received a nonchalant shrug from Yachiyo. “Nothing. I have no intention to get involved in this love triangle. I’m already taken.” The last bit was unnecessary but Yachiyo had to add it up for a good measure. She put the nail polish down and finally turned her attention fully to Meifan. “But you should stop being petty. It doesn’t look good on you.”

Meifan stared. Yachiyo rarely gave advises; she always trusts Meifan to be able to make a good decision for everything. This time, however, was different. Yachiyo was solemn, looking like she’s trying to warn Meifan. Her eyes were sharp, her lips pulled together to a stern line.

So, Meifan sat up, crossed her legs, and looked down. She frowned, “I’m not petty.”

“Ignoring Shiori when she asked you, purposely distancing yourself from her, and trying too hard to get Akira’s attention seems petty enough for me.”

Meifan flushed in both anger and embarrassment. “It’s for the council work!”

“At least you have priorities,” Yachiyo shook her head in disagreement. “But seriously, you’re disappointing me with how you deal with things. You told me to speak to Fumi, to stop being so miserable and act out on my feelings, and seeing you like this is making me angry. For obvious reasons.”

Meifan glared at Yachiyo. “Don’t say it!”

“You’re a hypocrite,” Yachiyo deadpanned, ignoring the warning. “I should’ve told you that sooner but I value our friendship and don't want to end up rooming with someone who snores in her sleep.”

“Sure, okay.” Meifan dismissed quickly. She didn’t move from her spot, but her grip on her pants tightened. Her mind wandered to what she saw in the student council room that evening. “How did she even do that?”

“Do what?”

“Being so brave.” Meifan sighed. Her expression changed, distressed. Meifan was trying to reason with herself. She respected Akira, she wanted to surpass Akira. Those were supposed to be her goals. She didn’t need these chains coiling in her chest every time she saw Akira and Shiori together. Meifan’s mouth started to tremble.  “I’m just all talk. Shiori is brave to do the thing that I don’t even want to think about. She’s made her choice and…” her usually staunch shoulders were shivering as Meifan took a deep breath. “I’m here, sulking like a child because I’m not brave enough. I feel like I’m losing to her.”

Another terrible thought made a pass in her. Meifan had to curl her fingers because she couldn’t bear to think about it, not when her mind was still all over the place.

“And that’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart,” Yachiyo added. Gently, almost like she’s trying to convince Meifan to believe that everything would be fine. Meifan listened to a soft rustle as Yachiyo sat beside her, trying to keep it together when Yachiyo’s fingers caressing the side of her face. “You’re the first person who ever dared to knock on the student council, barged into the room because you couldn’t wait to show Akira-senpai what you’re made of, openly declared your adoration to her as well as how you want to surpass her someday.” Meifan didn’t fight when Yachiyo pulled her to a hug, but her body was visibly shivering right now. “Not everyone can do that, you know?”

“Akira-san rejected me at first.”

Yachiyo scoffed as she ran her fingers down Meifan’s hair. “But that didn’t stop you from trying and look at you now. Your honesty brought you here. You earned this title yourself, Meifan.”

Yachiyo held up Meifan’s face in her hands, the color of her eyes was piercing enough until Meifan had to look away, quickly blinking away whatever that’s threatened to fall from her eyes. It was when she felt a gentle caress on her cheeks that she realized that she’s crying.

“Sorry,” Meifan cursed under her breath. “I’m not supposed to act like this.”

“It’s fine. Crying because you’re in love is such a teenage thing to do.”

“You’re crying because of Fumi-san too,” Meifan accused back. Her voice sounded weird.

“That’s because I’m an idiot and I love her.” Yachiyo smoothly replied. A kind, gentle smile was tugging on her lips, and Yachiyo’s face was looking soft as she stared at Meifan. Yachiyo wasn’t often on showing affection, but when she did, it was overwhelming. Fumi was indeed lucky.

“Does she ever tell you that?”  Meifan asked slowly as if she’s careful not to sound too curious.

Yachiyo laughed. She dropped her body to the bed and shook her head. “She’s not the type to say that kind of thing. She’d die of embarrassment first before saying those words to me.”

Meifan frowned at the response Yachiyo gave her. “But wouldn’t you be happier if she ever told you?”

Yachiyo sighed. Her expression changed, looking somewhat mellow too as she shifted to the side. “Fumi’s not a romantic. She always tried to make sense of things, but she’s never good at being honest,” Yachiyo ended with a sigh, almost sounding like regret. “I have to guess what she has in mind, wondering if we’re going to be fine, or does Fumi even love me or not.”

Yachiyo’s eyes were looking soft and vulnerable as Meifan stared at them. She lay down beside the girl, trying to make a meaning behind those words. “That sounds rough.”

Yachiyo chuckled. “It is, but then Fumi will hold me, take my hands, and tell me that everything will be fine, that she’s here and I don’t have to be alone anymore,” she stopped, her voice trailed to a whisper, as she dreamily looked at Meifan. Her cheeks even flushed a little, looking bashful like a little girl. “I just knew that she indeed loves me.”

Meifan, too, couldn’t help to let out a giggle. “Even after what happened, you’re still in love with her.”

“It’s not like I don’t have other choices,” Yachiyo shrugged. “I just can’t see myself loving anyone else.”

Meifan would’ve never believed it if someone ever told her that Tsuruhime Yachiyo was a romantic. And yet, here she was, hearing Yachiyo talking about Fumi as if Fumi was the only one that matter in this universe, how Yachiyo easily proclaimed her love for Fumi with such clarity until Meifan felt envious because she wouldn’t even dare to confess what she felt for Akira even if her life depended on it.

“But will it be forever though?” and Meifan asked that before she could stop it. Yachiyo stared back at her, the dreamy look in her eyes slightly dimmed as the weight behind Meifan’s voice brought her back to this reality.

“I don’t know,” Yachiyo replied, surprising Meifan at how honest that answer was. Yachiyo blinked slowly, her long lashes fluttered like butterfly wings. “Forever sounds very long, and we’re still in high school too…” she went quiet briefly, deep in thought, before continuing, “but who cares about forever if you can’t be with someone you love.”

Meifan felt like someone just poured her face with cold water. Yachiyo’s answer was stupid, but it was strangely… Yachiyo—quick, unabashed, careless, confident—something that Meifan never understood the logic but one she could agree because it came from Yachiyo. And just like that, Meifan burst into laughter, one that mixed with pained sobs and dry chuckles. This conversation was weird, it didn’t even give her any solution, but Meifan could see some clarity now.

“Okay, are you laughing or crying?” Yachiyo asked, raising her brow in confusion.

“Both,” Meifan heaved. Her voice was sounding strange again. She didn’t care. “Sometimes I ask myself why do I even bother to ask you for advice when we both know that you’re so bad at it.”

The girl was looking unamused. “I take that as a slander.”

Meifan didn’t mean it though because the next thing she did was to pull Yachiyo and bury her face on the nook of the girl’s neck. “It’s a compliment,” Meifan sighed, inhaling the jasmine scent, feeling the chains in her heart starting to loosen a bit. “Thank you, Yachiyo.”

There’s a soft laugh, followed by a set of fingers started to caress her hair.

“You’re welcome.”

But Yachiyo was right. Forever was too uncertain, and it meant nothing if you can’t even be with the person you love.

She’s going to invite Akira to have lunch with her tomorrow.

*

It was almost three and Shiori had been staring at the ceiling for hours now.

Shiori walked out from the room and padded through the empty hallway. It was rather dark and Shiori could hear soft snores coming from some of the rooms.

Sleep hadn’t been easy for her these days. Her lessons were still grueling, her limbs were feeling heavy as if they’re made of leads, and Shiori just couldn’t shake of uneasy feelings that made her mind go restless.

She made her way to the kitchen, planning to brew some tea before quickly scrapping the idea and preferred to have a glass of milk instead. Her steps went to a halt when she saw a figure leaning against the counter, nursing a glass of water. In the glow of the dim lighting, Shiori noted a flash of familiar silver hair near the counter.

It wouldn’t be easy to talk when she always turned to a blithering mess every time Akira was around. Taking a deep breath, Shiori went to the fridge and grabbed the milk carton. The light illuminated this room and Shiori quietly looked up into a pair of clear eyes, seeing how disarming they were until the fridge closed and the hum from the air conditioner was the only background noise she heard.

The glass clanking against the granite as Shiori sipped the milk slowly, somewhat congratulating herself for able to keep her calm no matter how close she was from combusting. The silence reminded Shiori of the student council room and there’s some sort of ugly excitement started to grow within her.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Yes,” Shiori leaned against the granite. She peered to Akira, noticing that the girl’s hair was tied in a side ponytail. Her sleeping dress was looking loose around her body, but Shiori could still make out some details of Akira’s figure. “I guess it’d be redundant if I ask you the same question, right?”

A scoff. Shiori watched as Akira leaned her body onto the counter across from her. “It’s pretty convenient that both of us can’t sleep at the same time, don’t you think?”

There’s no usual authority in Akira’s voice, only liquid tone and smooth disposition in the back of her throat. Shiori shivered. Every syllable that rolled from Akira’s lips sounded different in the dark.

“Yukishiro-senpai—”

“You’ve called me Akira before,” the girl pushed herself off the counter, her glass was forgotten as she approached Shiori. There's a gloss in her eyes as she moved her face closer to observe the girl. “You know that it’s no use to be so formal when it’s just the two of us.”

“But that would be rude.”

“And kissing me while I was sleeping is polite?”

Akira smirked, lips curled to a sneer and Shiori almost lost her breath. She knew the answer, she’s supposed to feel embarrassed, maybe she should’ve kneeled in front of Akira for mercy. Instead, her heart was beating a little too fast as the temperature started rising. Shiori didn’t look away, didn’t pull away. She stared back at Akira, imagining herself lost inside those eyes.

“Did you not like that?” Shiori asked, surprising both of them. Shiori felt her face flush; there’s a crawl under her skin and she quietly shifted on her feet. Akira didn’t say anything, preferring to let Shiori looking for the answer herself.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Because I like you, Shiori thought but she didn’t say it. It shouldn’t be that simple either. Honesty was never her best quality, one that she regretfully shared with her dear sister, but Shiori was, at least, braver in deciding for herself.

But what’s good at being brave when it only left her with mistakes? Kissing Akira was never a good idea, but you like her, you like her, you love her— and her feelings served as a catalyst for the mistake she was unable to undo.

“I was getting too comfortable with you,” Shiori said quietly. Her fingers pressed onto the smooth surface of the granite counter. Her eyes looked around before finally settled on Akira’s. “I’m not good with words… and you’re my senior,” she told her again. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I think it’s better if I just ignore it, but—”

The air shifted. Akira’s body was getting too close. She could even smell her perfume.

“Is that all?” Akira’s fingers were framing her face. Akira’s fingers were carefully touching every inch of Shiori’s skin, gently, subtly, almost like marveling it like some glorious work of art.  “Is that the only reason why you kissed me?”

Shiori breathed. “Yes.”

“You don’t find me attractive?” Akira leaned closer, the tip of her nose brushed against Shiori’s cheekbones, and her deep voice sent a strange yet welcoming throb down Shiori’s core. “Are you not interested in me?”

The color in Akira’s face changed. It was cold and unreadable, then it became mellow, vulnerable, her lips were opening and slightly trembling. Shiori raised her hand, touching Akira’s face, fingers skimming along the bottom lip, as her eyes followed.

Shiori should’ve said something—or at least tried to offer a reason, yet the one that came from her was, “Akira,” and she couldn’t stop it as her voice kept repeating, “Akira,” over and over again.

They’re in the dorm’s kitchen, Shiori reminded herself. She slipped her fingers under Akira’s hair and pulled the girl closer. Her mouth dropped over Akira’s, just as she hugged the other girl so tight as if the idea of the distance between them equaled torture.

It happened suddenly, neither of them was prepared for this and ultimately Akira relented and kissed Shiori back.

The feeling was nothing like what Shiori had done before. It’s more than just a brush of lips, more than a simple peck, and Shiori had always thought about kissing Akira. She could feel her body trembling when Akira shifted closer, her breathing came a bit hard when Akira’s teeth snagged her bottom lip. Her hand dropped from Akira’s cheek and settled on the back of Akira’s neck, crawling upward until her fingers buried in the lustrous of Akira’s hair, and when Akira let out a shudder, Shiori braved herself and pushed forward, kissing Akira with everything she had.

Shiori felt her heart swell, this close from exploding, and everything was aching. Her nerves were combusting, memories playing furiously inside her head, taunting and mocking her, and when Akira slipped her tongue into her mouth, Shiori could only think about how she wanted to love someone with honesty.

Her eyes were closed. It didn’t matter who broke the kiss first. Akira’s breath was on her skin in sharp, heavy puffs of air.

“Akira…”

Akira’s eyes were hooded, bruised lips curled in a tight line that held secrets. And just like that, the spell that bound them together quickly evaporated. Akira blinked her eyes as she slowly came to realize the gravity of the situation. Her expression hardened as she quickly put on the mask to hide whatever lingering vulnerability that she unabashedly showed to Shiori a few moments ago.

 “Sorry,” Akira muttered, looking away from Shiori as if she didn’t want the girl to see her. “I shouldn’t have made you do this,” She stepped back. Her mouth was hanging open as if she’s about to say something important. A frustrated groan crawled from Akira’s throat as she shook her head. “Just… forget about it.”

“Wait,” Shiori breathed, trying to hold to Akira for a little while longer. “I wanted this as much as you do!” her fingers already curled around Akira’s wrist to stop the girl from walking away. When Akira turned to look at her, Shiori felt sudden helplessness suddenly weighing her.

Their breathings echoed through the empty room and Shiori could only stare, hoping that her conviction was strong enough to keep Akira. In the end, however, Akira did pull away, pushing Shiori with such gentleness that almost made the girl’s heart bleed.

“Goodnight, Shiori,” was all Akira say before she left.

Shiori watched Akira walking away, listening to the voices that yelled at her in jumbled words, as Shiori tried to understand the situation. She touched her lips; they’re still raw and tender to the touch, and everything suddenly made sense now.

“Oh god…” she whispered, voice tight, as needles began poking at the back of her eyes—

Shiori could only think about falling.

And it was a little bit too much.

Chapter Text

Nothing spelled school’s cafeteria like loud chatters, the clinking of silverware, and the scent of food as everyone gathered during lunchtime.

Meifan was restless. Her fingers were tapping on the table as she let her eyes wander around the room to look for someone. The noises around her didn't make her anxiety better.

“Meifan,” Yachiyo called her with a tired voice. “Stop doing that, please?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

Yachiyo spared her a bemused look before pointing at Meifan’s hand. “The tapping? It makes me nervous too, you know.” Meifan pouted but she obliged Yachiyo’s request and proceeded to tap on her knees instead. “Are you looking for someone?”

“I haven’t seen Akira-san,” she replied. Instead of looking at Yachiyo, her eyes were wandering around the dining hall.

“She probably has something to do,” Yachiyo stabbed on her chicken salad. Lunch was the time where Yachiyo supposed to feel relaxed. But Meifan was restless, which in turn made Yachiyo feel restless too. “Shiori’s not around either.” She paused, sending a smile at a group of girls from the middle school department who passed their table before turning her attention back to Meifan. “I don’t want to sound privy but maybe both of them are having lunch together without telling us?”

Meifan narrowed her eyes as she gave Yachiyo a warning glare. “They’re not. Stop assuming things,” she stated, then stopped, realizing that jealousy was an ugly thing and how wrong she was to spat on Yachiyo. She leaned to her chair and craned her neck upward; she’s supposed to be a little calmer.

Meifan opened her mouth to apologize, but Yachiyo had her attention on her phone, thumbs moving in such speed as she typed the message. The reply came in a few seconds, and Yachiyo let out a giggle when she read that.

Yachiyo must’ve done something to infuriate Fumi again. Meifan rolled her eyes; she didn’t want to know what it was.

“Hi girls,” Michiru approached them with a tray of food in her hand. “Mind if I sit here?”

Yachiyo tucked her phone inside the pocket of her skirt before greeting Michiru. “You don’t need to ask about it,” she said with a more careful smile. The subtle change in demeanor wasn't lost on Meifan. If she didn’t know better, Yachiyo probably tolerated Michiru’s existence out of politeness.

Yachiyo began the conversation first.

“You look a bit tired. Something up?”

“I had a meeting with some people from school’s committee, discussing a few things,” Michiru supplied. She stirred on her coffee before taking a sip, wincing a little. “They wanted an update about the Joint Performance and how we’re holding up. They expect us to perform on par with Elysion—or even better, considering that Seisho also taking part in the festival.”

“Just Seisho?” Yachiyo raised a brow. “I think we need to watch over Frontier and Rinmeikan too.”

Michiru still had that smile on her face. “And why should we?”

Yachiyo took a deep breath before explaining. “Because they’re just as good. Frontier, despite their reputation, actually has a dedicated fanbase. Their shows are always fun, elaborate, even people with no knowledge of stage plays can enjoy it,” Yachiyo reasoned, resting her chin on her palm as she leaned onto the table. “Rinmeikan might be a little old-fashioned, but we all know that they’re experts in their field. No one can adapt to Japanese myths and legends better than Rinmeikan. There’s a reason why they’re invited to have a show for the imperial family next month.”

Michiru laughed; the look that she gave Yachiyo was a knowing one. “I never expect less of your investigation skill,” she complimented, and her voice suddenly dropped lower. “You must be proud to see Fumi making that far.”

Yachiyo shrugged. “I’m just glad to see her finding peace in stage plays again.”

“Of course. Supporting each other is what you do when you’re having a special relationship with someone, right?”

Except for Meifan and Shiori, nobody in this school knew about Yachiyo and Fumi’s relationship. And considering how awful everything after Fumi's departure, Meifan assumed that Michiru wouldn’t be thrilled with the prospect an Edel dating an ex-student, who happened to be an ex-Edel too, no less.

Meifan was ready to break the tension between them when she saw Yachiyo visibly smiling at Michiru’s suggestion. “That’s a pretty bold assumption, Michiru-senpai,” she sang with a cheerful voice. “If I didn’t know better, I was thinking that you’re serious back there.”

Michiru took another sip of her coffee. “I’m serious, but you’re free to think otherwise,” she said without a beat, still maintaining the friendliness that belied the knowledge she carefully kept inside. And just as easy as flipping a coin, Michiru diverted her attention to Meifan. “Can you bring this food to the student council room? Akira is working on something and god knows she won’t eat if no one tells her to.”

Meifan blinked. “Me? I-I mean, I thought you’re going to eat this.”

Michiru sighed as if Meifan just suggested for Edels to visit the swimming pool in autumn. “Do you think I’d eat that abominable on my own volition?” Meifan peeked at the food tray and saw a plate of a spicy mapo tofu. She could feel her throat burning just from looking at it. “Anyway, I’m sorry to bother you, but can you help me with this?”

Normally, Meifan would’ve felt excited about the possibility of having the chance to spend time alone with Akira. However, things were changing. Meifan was sort of tripping over feelings that she had for Akira and was this close to burning herself with jealousy that she bore for Shiori. It’s a bit messy and as much as Meifan wanted to act on it, a sudden change in their dynamics was something that Meifan scared the most.

Meifan picked up the tray, muttering her excuse, and stood up from her chair. Ignoring the look Yachiyo gave her, Meifan made her way out from the cafeteria.

“What’s your plan, senpai?”

The smaller girl tilted her head. Her smile was sickeningly sweet until Yachiyo had to suck a breath through her teeth. “There’s no plan,” Michiru stated with a slight shrug. “I’m just asking Meifan to deliver the food, that’s all.”

Yachiyo wasn’t fazed with the offhanded comment and decided to press further. “I believe you’re asking Shiori to go student council too just to complicate things.”

Yachiyo braced herself for a rebuttal, but what she got was a sneer from Michiru. The small girl crossed her arms as she leaned to her chair. “I see everything and I understand what’s going on,” she began. Her voice went slightly deeper; a clear signal for Yachiyo that Michiru was serious about this. “I have nothing against my stars having a relationship. I don’t even mad with the fact that you and Fumi are dating.” Yachiyo slightly shrank on her seat under Michiru’s stare. “What I can’t accept is how Akira deliberately ignored the signs and pretended that she got everything under control. When she told me that Shiori kissed her, I know it’d mess her up.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to think too much about it.”

The suggestion earned Yachiyo a scoff from Michiru. “I know Akira better than anyone,” she said stiffly. Her brows met in a frown. “And knowing her, I don’t think she knows how to make everything right.”

*

Akira didn’t want to play favorites.

Become her ally, her mentor… That’s one way to get her trust.

Michiru told her that once, teetering in scolding. The kind smile she often wore hidden behind a serious frown.

One would think that Yukishiro Akira was unapproachable. She was, but she had a reason to be. If it were up to her, Akira would think that everything would turn out well if she worked hard enough, that she had no faults as she steadily climbed her way to the top. Michiru, however, had a plan. Michiru always had a plan. And it didn’t involve only Akira, but also the rest of the Edels.

Michiru crept it, carefully put the pieces on their places, observed Akira and the others, worked in secrets while holding a smile that earned her everyone’s favor.

Michiru was loyal. She did everything in her power to bring Akira to where she’s at now. She led Akira down the path of stardom, telling Akira what she had to do, and built her character with one goal in mind: to create a perfect actress for the perfect act.

Honestly, Akira didn’t mind about it. She followed Michiru’s lead as she led Siegfeld to the path of glory and sharpened her skills as an actress. Akira was good in everything she did. It’s just something that she understood well too. No expectation was impossible for her.

However, Akira had to admit that it was easier to deal with people’s expectation than facing her current predicament.

Her fingers crept along her lower lip, pausing as she relished the softness of Shiori’s lips from last night. The kiss was clumsy, awkward, tasted like an accident, but Akira wanted nothing but to savor it all over again.

What was happening back there? Why did she have to ask Shiori? Why did she have to kiss Shiori like that? Akira wasn’t impulsive. She’s not supposed to act on instinct. This world was a stage and Akira had her part. Stick to it, and Akira would play it perfectly, without mistakes.

But with Shiori, Akira did her first mistake.

Akira could commit to a lifetime of mistakes with Shiori. Countless ones and she wouldn’t even regret them.

 “Akira-san.”

A knock and a familiar voice from the outside of the room broke the haze Akira had. The girl cleared her throat and straightened her posture, holding a wince when she realized that she still had stacks of documents waiting for her.

“Come in,” Akira spoke up; her voice came out a bit trembling. She just hoped no one heard it.

Meifan entered the room with a tray of food; the usual confidence in her steps was more subdued as she shyly approached Akira. “Michiru-senpai asked me to bring you food.”

“Thank you,” Akira muttered. Her thoughts were consuming her she didn’t even remember that she hadn’t had her lunch. She took the spoon and started scooping on her food, chewing on the tofu and swallowing the spicy sauce slowly. When she looked up, Meifan was still standing on her spot, staring at her with something that Akira couldn’t comprehend. “Is there anything else you need to say to me?”

“Yes.”

Meifan answered straight away. The girl never beat around the bush so Akira was expecting this kind of answer. But there’s something different about it too. Meifan’s voice was rather hurried like she’s trying to keep herself together when it’s obvious that she had a little control in whatever things that happened around her.

“What is it?”

 “I want to know what you think of me.”

Akira was stunned. She heard it, but she had nothing to say about it— more like she didn’t know what to say. “What I think of you?” Akira repeated, almost gritting her words. “Is this a trick question?”

“Because I want to know,” Meifan didn’t waver under Akira’s glare. “I know you’re always pushing me forward, but I want to know what you think of me, what you see in me as Meifan.”

“And will that help you to grow as a performer?” Akira asked back, crossing her arms. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes when she realized that there’s no easy way for her to dismiss Meifan. “Listen. You came to this school because you’re striving to be the best stage girl, to surpass me, and I’ll do everything in my power to help you get to that. Our relationship is based on that principle alone, so there’s no need to go beyond that.”

Meifan went stiff. Her eyes sharpened. “If that’s your point, then why did you let Shiori do that to you?”

Akira was in the middle of taking another bite of her food; there’s a short lapse between lifting and holding that made the spoon almost fell to the floor. She’s lucky her reflex was always on point.

“I treat Shiori no different from how I treat you, Michiru, or Yachiyo,” Akira answered the accusation although she’s not entirely sure how honest her statement was. “Stop making stupid assumptions, Meifan.”

“Don’t give me that. I know what you’re doing!” Meifan almost yelled. Her voice was agitated, even her eyes were widening in exasperation. “At first, I didn’t notice it, but I often saw you stealing glances at her, taking your time with her, helping her even when she’s not doing any mistake. And when she kissed you, I realized that you…” Meifan stopped, almost hitching.  “Is that what you call an equal treatment!?”

Another string of argument was ready on the tip of her tongue but Akira swallowed it all, seeing no point explaining it to Meifan, but she didn’t want to lose in this measly argument either.

No matter how hard Akira tried to refute it, she knew that Meifan was right. She played herself by letting emotions leaking out; Shiori’s existence was a brief respite that Akira had been longing in this life but Akira was a realist. She had a role to play, expectations to maintain. Having a relationship with someone wasn’t one of them.

“Your jealousy is baseless, and I won’t accept that accusation.”

Even though Meifan was giving her best to look unaffected, Akira saw it. Akira saw the color of Meifan’s eyes was wavering; there’s no confidence in them. She didn’t see the proud and boastful Frau Rubin. All she saw was Liu Meifan, slowly crumbling under the weight of her feelings.

Akira let out a breath. “You have my permission to leave,” she said in dismissal. This conversation left a bitter taste on Akira’s tongue, but she didn’t know another way to stop Meifan from cornering her. It’s a cheap trick and Michiru would’ve been disappointed at her.

Screw that, Akira thought and turned her attention back to her half-eaten food.

Just as she was about to pick her spoon, someone was holding on her wrist and a set of fingers on her cheek. The protest died on her tongue when Akira realized how close the distance between her and Meifan now.

“I’m jealous because I don’t like how you treat Shiori differently from me!” Meifan growled, the sound of her voice echoing down Akira’s spine. Akira’s face was stone cold, but it did not affect Meifan. “You’re not treating everyone equally. You play favorites, and even though I try my best to get your attention, you’re always looking the other way, looking at her.”

“Meifan, I’m warning you,” there’s a warning in Akira’s voice. “Let me go now or you’ll regret it.”

“Try me.”

Meifan met Akira’s gaze. She smiled; the kind of smug smile that made Akira’s heart ached in every sense possible. They stopped, looking at each other with frigid clarity. Meifan held Akira’s face in her hands, studied her close; the tips of her fingers dragged along Akira’s nose and jaw.

Meifan placed a kiss in a line between Akira’s lips and cheek, and Akira could hear the clock inside her ticking.

“Akira.”

Meifan called her, no honorifics, and Akira felt that name snake up her back, twisting on her guts, and making her suddenly nauseous at how she wished it’s someone else’s voice that called her. A part of her fumed but the rest of her felt nothing but disgust—mostly to herself because she couldn’t stand the idea of comparing Meifan to Shiori.

Their eyes met. Akira felt like Meifan was trying to strip her soul with how she looked at her. “Meifan,” her voice sounded strange. Her brain was not in a condition to articulate the situation. “You’re not supposed to do this.”

Akira was expecting Meifan to stumble on her words, just like Shiori. However, what Meifan did next was to press their foreheads together, holding Akira close. It’s cheesy, too much, but it’s also something that Liu Meifan would do.

“I want to,” Meifan husked, caressing Akira’s face with a caress akin to lovers. “You’re more than someone I admire, more than someone I want to surpass.” Meifan’s voice was gentle. It made Akira shiver a little. “You’re so dear to me, Akira-san, in a way that makes me want to do stupid things with you.”

The lighting that came from the ceiling flickered on Meifan’s face, shading her face in a soft hue that made Meifan looked strangely vulnerable and true. Akira ate her up, unable to look away, but somehow she managed to push Meifan by the shoulders. Akira didn’t have any rational thing to say. Even if she had, it’d be a cruel one and Akira didn’t want to hurt Meifan more than she already was.

“You may go,” Akira said awkwardly, looking away. “I’ll return the tray myself. Just… go.”

Akira mentally wished that Meifan would listen to her. She stole a glance to Meifan, noticing the girl was walking to the exit, almost looking reluctant to do it too. The suffocating silence between them ended when she heard a soft click from the door. Akira was alone, again, and she remembered that she had to breathe.

But her thoughts, god it’s always her thoughts, stayed behind, lurking like ghosts in the darkest part of her mind.

Her feelings were starting to become a poison.

*

Shiori didn’t get her chance to speak to Akira.

At rehearsals, Akira was training the other girls and spared little time with the Edels. Akira didn’t stray too far from Michiru when they had meetings in the student council room. And while the routine was slightly changing, she admitted that maybe she needed the distance because her brain didn’t seem to work properly every time Akira near her.

It’d been a few days since their kiss and with how little time they talked to each other, Shiori still didn’t have any idea what Akira was thinking about her.

But even if Akira did think differently about her, Shiori knew that nothing changed between them. Akira was still Frau Platin, the Top Star of Siegfeld, unreachable, and Shiori was too naïve to think that she’d have a chance. Shiori wanted to believe that Akira kissed her because she shared the same feelings, but Shiori realized that might be not be the case. Akira probably had a lapse of judgment when she kissed her, and that thought alone was enough to make Shiori mad.

Are you not interested in me?

Shiori admitted that she’s interested in Akira. Who wouldn’t? Akira’s status in Siegfeld was a stellar one until some people dubbed her as the living legends that came in every thousand years. Akira had this irresistible charm on her; it’s like looking at a precious diamond but had no means to touch it. Shiori was this close from imploding on the day when she had to perform in front of the Edels for the evaluation. She’s thinking too much and almost missed her step; she’s even sure that she didn’t leave any good impression.

But Akira called her in. Akira invited her to the student council as a member, as Frau Jade, and gave Shiori the chance to stand on the center stage. The expectation was mountain high, but Shiori was too ecstatic to think about any of it. Akira noticed her and it was enough to make her giddy until she couldn’t sleep for a couple of days.

But was that the only reason why she liked Akira though?

Akira wasn’t gentle. She’s strict, aloof, and sometimes overwhelming. Akira had no time for incompetence, her standards were high—almost impossible, and she was merciless towards someone who didn’t meet her expectations.

But there was a moment when Akira made a pass on Shiori in the middle of the busy hallway, a simple moment when Akira’s fingers were on Shiori’s back as they danced together in the practice room, a simple advice when Akira told Shiori to be more confident, a fleeting gentleness that curled on Akira’s lips when she smiled.

It’s probably too clichéd for Shiori to fall for someone with that kind of quality, but Shiori knew that Akira was a kind person.

Shiori sighed. There’s so much of Akira that she didn’t know. What Akira showed to her—to the world—was just one of many personas that build Yukishiro Akira’s character as a whole. But what would happen if Shiori managed to find the other personas? One that’s unpleasant and showed the real Akira?

Would Shiori still feel the same admiration as she had now?

Her ears caught a noise from the inside one of the shower stalls, and she realized that she’s in the bathroom, spending fifteen minutes inside the tub, gazing to the water, with her mind wandering to the clouds. When she turned her head, she caught a glimpse of familiar silver hair and her heart skipped.

Akira was here.

“Aki—Yukishiro-senpai.”

Shiori’s voice was coarse. She blinked and quickly looked down. Prunes were already formed on her hands but she didn’t move away. Instead, she closed her eyes and breathed, inhaling the scent of lilac and lavender.

“Shiori,” Akira greeted back, curtly, and stepped into the tub, sighing under the caress of the hot water. Shiori could only watch. The heat began to make her feel rather dizzy.

They sat there for a while. Akira had her head lolled back, arms spread to the side, while Shiori quietly staring at the water.

“You’re doing well today.”

Shiori wasn’t ready for the unexpected compliments. She’s bumbling, almost tripped on her words, before managed to utter a flimsy, “thank you!” while slightly bowing to Akira.

“You don’t have to feel that happy,” Akira added with a raised eyebrow.

“I-it’s because we haven’t spoken for days, and I kind of miss your input,” Shiori replied. There’s so much of Akira that she missed but she wouldn’t say it. “You’re looking good too, senpai.”

Akira raised a brow and Shiori almost wanted to drown herself because oh my god she just didn’t say that out loud! Shiori was thankful that the steam was rather thick. It’d be too embarrassing if Akira found out that she’s blushing like crazy too.

“Thank you. I’m pleased that we managed to practice to the fullest today.”

Shiori was observing Akira. The sharp feature of her side profile was distinctive, quite intimidating, but still stunning. A terrible sense of déjà vu struck Shiori when Akira turned to look at her. It was bad enough until Shiori got too self-conscious at how naked Akira made her feel. Those eyes were incredibly sharp and Shiori couldn’t move.

“Shiori, I want to apologize.”

“Huh? For what?” Shiori blinked, genuinely confused. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Akira glanced at Shiori briefly before turning the shower off. There’s a proper way to make this conversation less weird. Shiori should have gone to the other side of the tub so she could talk to Akira, but the barriers between them were still there and Shiori didn’t dare to come close. The small sneer on Akira’s lips would make anyone else cower in fear, but, strangely, Shiori felt nothing but a strong attraction to it. She pressed her legs together; a morbid moan was threatening to fall down her lips as something weird began to grow on the base of her stomach.

“You’re fine with how I treated you last time?”

“What do you mean?”

Akira hung her head in shame. “I was careless. I wasn’t supposed to kiss you like that.”

Shiori’s eyes traveled down the length of Akira’s neck and ending on the dip of Akira’s collarbone. She quickly shook her head. Distraction was only making everything worse.

“I…” Shiori trailed off, she had a faint idea how to bring anything up. “I’m sorry too. I did it first. I took advantage of your sickness.” She fumbled with her fingers, bracing herself to look at Akira straight in the eyes. “But I didn’t regret it.”

Akira’s eyes flickered as she stilled.

“I didn’t regret kissing you…” the younger girl breathed in. Her body was moving in autopilot as she approached Akira, feeling the water moving around her naked skin, and she settled in front of Akira. Her eyes were bright as she observed Akira closely. “I… think about you, a little too much, and I wonder if you’re thinking about me too.”

Akira let out a troubled breath, but she didn’t move away. Her fingers curled to a ball in a feeble attempt to control herself. Shiori was too close, this room was too hot, and Akira only had so much patience.

“Shiori,” Akira growled through gritted teeth. “Your admiration to me is just going to hinder your growth. I thought you understand that better than Meifan!”

“What’s wrong in admiring you?” Shiori asked back, her voice raised a little. “Maybe I’m the same as Meifan-senpai. I admire you so I can become better, so I can be worthy to stand by your side!”

Akira frowned, angry at her inability to push Shiori away. She said nothing as she kept her eyes lowered, breathing deeply to calm herself.

“Look at me.” Shiori husked. The girl leaned forward, slowly. Her fingers were trembling as she traced along Akira’s face and down her jaw. She thumbed it lightly and pulled Akira in, making the older girl unable to look at anything else but Shiori’s face.

Akira closed her eyes, nearly winced, knowing that she’s already teetering into dangerous territory. And as if Shiori read her thoughts, she felt a gentle weight on top of her, feeling Shiori’s legs on the side of her hips to straddle her. Akira merely exhaled when Shiori pressed her body onto hers. She didn’t listen to her thoughts, didn’t bother to notice the warning sign, her attention was all for Shiori, who gazed down at her with her face hovering a few inches in front of Akira’s.

“Are you uncomfortable…?” Shiori asked, her voice laced with curiosity as well as concern. Her hands were still on Akira’s face, holding the older girl gently.

“No,” her voice came in a mere husk; she couldn’t help herself as she said, “you’re beautiful.”

A smile curled on Shiori’s lips. It’s different from what Akira always saw when she complimented Shiori of her dancing. That smile was sultry, mysterious, naughty, and Akira couldn’t think of anything else.

“You’re gorgeous too, Akira.”

Akira should’ve been ashamed with how subdued she’s acting now. It was shameful enough that she’s failed at controlling her emotions. Now that Shiori was the one who comforted her, Akira realized how unassertive she’d been acting until now.

Akira was trying to keep everything together, to keep her desires inside because god knows how long she’d been trying to fend off this filthy thing out of her mind. Michiru was right when she said that Akira words and behaviors told different things. One was lying, while the others longed for that taste.

“I could kiss you,” Akira muttered, her breathing ghosting along Shiori’s half-open mouth.

“Then kiss me.”

“No,” Akira sighed when Shiori dipped down to press kisses on her face, assaulting Akira’s senses in the cruelest way possible, “I don’t want to violate you further than this.”

Shiori’s eyes were half-lidded as she slowly moved so her face was hovering over Akira’s. They locked eyes, breathing through the heaviness of their desire. Akira craned her neck up; her breathing now coming in shorter pants.

“I want this,” the words fell down Shiori’s lips in a shaky breath. “I want it,  Akira, so please...”

Shiori gently took Akira’s hands, guiding Akira to touch every inch of her skin in a way that made Akira almost lost her mind. Shiori’s body was small, almost frail like a frozen camelia that would snap under the blizzard; the heat had turned her white torso to a lighter shade of red with her ample chest heaving in short, heavy breaths. Akira had seen other girls’ bodies many times, but she only paid attention once—because Shiori was worth of every attention. Gray eyes flickering, swallowing up the shivering figure before her, fingers touching all in the right places because Akira only knew one way to worship a goddess.

“Akira,” the girl sighed, begged, grinding her hips. Their lower bodies pressed together. “Please, I can’t—”

Take it, someone growled in the back of her mind. Take it, take it, take it, tAKe iT, TAKE IT!

“Stop!” Akira held Shiori by the shoulders, pushing the girl off her lap. They stayed like that for a while, their heavy breathings chorused across the empty bathroom. Akira stared at Shiori, noticing that the girl’s eyes were still dark, dazed and confused under the cloud of desire. The way Shiori looked at her, her golden hair tousled, and wide surprised eyes made Akira crumble.

“…Akira?”

Akira shook her head. She pushed Shiori gently back to the tub as she stood up. The room had become too hot for her and she couldn’t breathe. “Don’t ever do this kind of thing again!” she growled. Her emotions were all over the place: shame, confused, desire, anger—mostly anger because she despised herself for being so weak. Jaw clenched, Akira turned to go. This was a mistake. Akira should’ve known better than to play with fire that’s more than capable to burn her alive.

A muffled sob entered her ears just before Akira stepped outside.

She didn’t stop.

She’s not going to make any more mistake.

*

"Akira messed it up this time," Michiru complained.

She bumped to Akira in the hallway just as she arrived from another meeting with the school's committee. The girl was looking stiff than usual, only providing a curt 'sorry' before sauntering away. Michiru wouldn't put too much of her thought on it if she didn't see Shiori walking down the hall a few minutes later, eyes puffy and looked sad as well as frustrated for some reasons.

Michiru didn't mind with her stars having a relationship. As long as it didn't affect their performance, then Michiru would gladly give them her blessing. But Akira, that damn Akira, was infuriatingly hopeless. Akira was the star that Michiru had crafted to perfection, the one and only perfect artist that the world had seen, but she never thought how careless Akira when she's in love.

Akira never made mistakes, save for minor inconvenient that did little to deter her performance. She spent her whole life to the stage, dedicating all her abilities to songs and dances. She worked harder than anyone else, unforgiving towards herself, all because she’s sure this was something she could do best. She knew the basic human relationship, some essential stuff she needed to get by, but that’s just it. She never had anyone close to her, never had a real conversation, and never had someone she could hold so dear in her heart.

And yet there was but one person to her, the one person who could turn her Akira into a dubious mess of confusion and frustration.

“Why is it every time something annoying happen it’s always because of a Yumeoji?” Michiru asked herself, wincing at the impending headache.

She had to do something about this.

Chapter Text

It’s not supposed to be like this.

She never thought things would go this far. Akira strayed too far from the designated path, venturing in limbo without any idea where she’d end up. The feeling was foreign, but the attraction was there, nailed firmly on the back of her brain like some sort of ugly memories.

The practice room was extra hot today. The humidity had squeezed every single drop of sweat out from Akira’s pores. Summer in Tokyo was terrible and practicing in this heat only made her crankier than usual. The rain that poured briefly this morning only made the air more humid than it needed to be. An ache began riding on her limbs in constant grinds, but Akira didn’t stop dancing.

She’d never compromise with her routine.

Music blared through her body, shaking and rattling her bones, as she strutted down the dancing hall, jumping, twisting, flicking her eyes, all to reach that perfection. She shut down her mind and focused all her energy on the dancing. Her breathing caught with the rhythm of the beat, disorienting her as heat and exhaustion started to make her head spin out of control.

“Akira.”

Her feet were glued to the floor. It took her a minute. She flicked her eyes to the mirror and saw Michiru standing by the door. Akira groaned at another impending headache.

“What do you want?” Akira asked with a huff. She turned the music off and took a towel from inside her bag. The room went quiet except for Akira’s heaving breath. Michiru had daggers in her eyes as she observed Akira from the distance.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding?”

Michiru’s voice sounded strange in her ears. It’s gentle, maybe a bit different from how Michiru usually talked when it’s just the two of them, but Akira knew that Michiru could be painfully blunt with her words. It’s something that made her scary too. Something awful bubbled at the base of her stomach. Akira swallowed. She didn’t like this at all.

“I’m not hiding.”

Michiru chuckled. She walked into the room, carefully avoiding the splatters of sweat on the floor. The room was unforgivingly hot and Akira was too focused on her training she didn’t realize that her body was drenched in sweat.

“Of course not. Running away is not what Frau Platin would do,” Michiru commented. She took the remote control and turned the air conditioner on. “But it’s also unwise to train in this heat without turning the air conditioner. You might pass out.”

Akira turned her face away, flustered. “It’s fine.”

Michiru offered a smile. She held two bottles of sports drink and threw one to Akira. “Your reflex is just good as ever,” Michiru complimented when she watched Akira caught the bottle with one hand. She unscrewed the cap and took tiny gulps, realizing how thirsty she was even though she’s not practicing.

“You haven’t answered my question,” Akira inquired after a while; her eyes were looking sharp as she waited for Michiru. “What do you want? Surely you didn’t come here just to give me this.”

Michiru narrowed her eyes. Her smile was crooked. “Are you assuming I have ulterior motives?”

Akira wasn’t in the mood of entertaining Michiru. “Yachiyo’s rubbing off on you.”

“Fine. I see you’re not in the mood to joke around,” Michiru raised her hands in mock surrender. “What did Meifan and Shiori do to you?” Michiru asked finally.

Akira sent a glance to Michiru, frowning. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Quit your bullshit, Akira. I know what you’re doing,” the smaller girl rolled her eyes, obviously unamused at Akira’s half-baked response. “It’s not that hard to guess, considering how strange you’ve been acting around those two.”

“I know,” Akira quickly replied, pausing as she tried to arrange better words. “But I have my reasons.” Akira was hesitating. It didn’t seem right to tell Michiru about what Meifan and Shiori had done. “I was never good at conveying my feelings, especially when there’s no script to direct me.” Akira’s voice shifted to a lower tone. She sounded exhausted and vulnerable. “I mean, this isn’t something that I can ask you out of the blue.”

“You look like you have no idea what you’re doing either.”

“I’ve tried!” Akira retorted, insisting, and hated herself for being so open in front of Michiru. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, so vulnerable and weak. In fact, she thought, talking to Michiru would only make everything worse considering how good the girl was to get under Akira’s skin. “They’re confused and I don’t know how to handle them. I don’t even ask for this, but they just don’t understand and keep pestering me with their… affections,” Akira gripped the steel rather tightly, trying to quench the ugly reminder of what happened a few days ago. “They should be doing better than this.”

It was a strange sensation; it’s as if she’s desperately grasping at nothing for some clarity. Akira breathed. Something inside her chest cracked and each breath she took sent shivers down her spine. Michiru was waiting, looking at Akira in silent contemplation.

“And what do you feel?” Michiru’s voice sounded far away. The prolonged silence between them was suffocating. “About Meifan and Shiori.”

“I feel nothing for them.”

Michiru shifted her lips to a dubious sneer. “You can lie better than that.”

“And telling you that I almost violated Shiori is a better option?” Akira shot back, baring her teeth. She didn’t miss a beat. Her voice was sharp and desperate like she’s ready to start a fight.

A long pause settled. The sound of music from the neighboring dancing hall filled the air. Akira pursed her lips as she pushed herself away from the railing, moving to the corner of the room where she put her training bag. She ignored Michiru’s wide gaze and quickly cleaned up. This moment wasn’t her proudest but it’s necessary. She had to tell someone or she’d go crazy from the guilt that’d been haunting her every night.

“What?”

Michiru asked, her voice was barely a whisper. Akira didn’t even need to look up to see the girl. The Michiru in her brain was looking horrified, maybe a bit disgusted. Akira was already displeased with how unsightly she’d been behaving, she didn’t need to receive another blow from Michiru.

“Forget I said that,” Akira retorted. Her voice hung in the air, fleeting and uncertain.

“No, I still don’t understand what you mean.” Michiru’s voice was stone cold. She walked to Akira, crossing her arms and staring at Akira as if she’s about to rip the girl’s soul out from her body. “What do you mean with that? Tell me.”

Akira’s mind was too convoluted to even arrange a sentence. She remembered about Shiori, about the kiss, about the fact that Shiori wanted her as much as Akira wanted Shiori back. Akira was fumbling; she’d always been clumsy with her feelings.

“It’s just a mistake I should’ve never done. It won’t happen again.”

“Please don’t lie to me, Akira,” Michiru cut Akira back. The patience in her voice was wearing thin as Michiru pushed Akira back, forcing the taller girl to the nearest wall. “You might be the best student Siegfeld ever had, but you’re the absolute worst in basic human relationship,” her index finger stabbed onto Akira’s chest as if she’s trying to engrave her words onto Akira’s skin. “You’re being annoying. You lose control of yourself. You’re not honest and looking for distraction instead of facing your problems heads on. Meifan and Shiori have made it clear what they feel for you, but you’re too stunned to do anything and make everything worse for everyone!”

“You don’t know anything, Michiru!”

“That would be believable if you can at least mask your feelings better,” Michiru shook her head. “Meifan is distancing herself from Shiori and she’s getting more aggressive to get your attention, and Shiori’s been lacking in her practice because her mind is obviously somewhere else. And to make things worse, you’re avoiding them, Akira. You, the leader of Edels, aren’t doing your job properly because you’re too flustered to be in their presence!”

“I have put my trust in them to be able to practice without my guidance,” Akira said. These days, Akira had been lying to herself a lot. “If they’ve been lacking, then it’s their fault. You can’t have me bear the responsibility for that.”

The laugh that rolled of Michiru’s mouth was like a combination of mockery and frustration. “Oh god, you can’t even make a good excuse to save your own ass,” Michiru’s hands were on Akira’s arms, squeezing on the flesh. “Akki, I’ve sworn to help you in any way I can. I have my plan and you have your dream. We have the same goal and I’ll do everything in my power to achieve it. But this thing between you, Meifan, and Shiori will stray us further from our dream, and I can’t have that. I don’t want to compromise the quality in our performance with this hopeless pining between the three of you.”

Michiru breathed in. The height difference between the two forced Michiru to crane her neck up so she could see Akira’s eyes. Being under Michiru’s scrutiny was never a pleasant experience and Akira knew that better than anyone did. Her tongue was tied, words were gone, and Akira could only look away in shame and guilt.

“Look, I don’t envy you for having complicated feelings for two people at once, but you should get over it. Stop being an emotionally stunted human being and be honest for once!”

“I told you I don’t feel anything for them.”

“Then say it!” Michiru snarled; her blunt nail dug deeper into Akira’s skin hard enough to leave a mark. “If you feel nothing for them, then say it! Make them understand what you really feel and stop being so condescending to yourself!”

Michiru pulled away from Akira and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her forehead was glistening with sweat and red streaks were visible on her cheeks. This heat only made everything worse for her because Michiru was looking especially agitated. The smaller girl took a step backward, grumbling quietly under breath.

“Michiru, I—”

“Stop. I don’t want to listen to your excuse,”

Akira knew Michiru would never abandon her over some trivial things, but Akira was also painfully aware that Michiru wouldn’t think twice to take extreme measures if things started to get out of hands. The taller girl pursed her lips. Her hands were dangling uselessly as she shifted on her heels to find something to say.

“I’m sorry,” came the apology. It’s just another futile devices. Akira didn’t know any other way to correct her mistakes.

Akira was expecting to hear another earful from Michiru. However, Michiru only sighed and looked understandably exhausted as she said, “You’re a mess, Akira.”

The girl ended this conversation as she walked to the exit. Michiru’s voice was light and cautious, trembling between the lingering silences. Akira’s heart crawled into her throat. This morning she stopped in front of Shiori’s door, contemplating if she did the right thing by pushing the girl away.

Maybe she did it on purpose.

Or maybe she’s just a coward like she’d always been.

*

“I’m going out, okay?”

Meifan raised her hand to let Yachiyo know she’s listening. The door closed and Meifan resumed reading the book she borrowed from the library. Reading usually helped; it distracted her from thinking too much, but she’s bored and soon she put the book and down and began pacing around the room.

Her schedule was empty this weekend. It was sunny outside and as much as Meifan wanted to tag along, she knew Yachiyo was meeting with Fumi and Meifan wasn’t in the mood to be the designated third wheel.

She stepped out of the room, feet padding slowly against the floor. The dorm was practically empty on weekends as everyone preferred to go out. Some of the students went home to meet their families. Meifan wasn’t the sentimental type, but this silence, this loneliness, as she trudged through the empty halls made her miss her family a bit too much.

She stopped in front of Akira’s door.

A fact: Meifan wasn’t the champion in self-constrain and if she wanted to make an excuse out of it, Meifan was not thinking clearly when she kissed Akira—if that small peck was considered as a kiss, frankly. The confusion was there. Her logic was in shambles, clouding her judgment. Life in Siegfeld was never easy and Meifan had prepared for it the second she decided to apply to this school. She had memorized her routine: work hard, aim for the greater heights, path her way to the center stage, mesmerize the world with her brilliance.

It was supposed to be that simple until she realized that her heart was changing.

Things like I want to surpass you, Akira-san had changed into something else. She saw Akira differently. It’s not difficult to practice some self-control at first. As days went by, Meifan started to wonder why her body was always quietly shivering every time she listened to Akira’s voice, or how time suddenly moved too fast when Akira was quietly looking at her.

It culminated into a realization and Meifan had no power to stop it from spiraling.

She didn’t knock and walked away, passing Michiru’s room, and stopped again in front of Shiori’s room.

Meifan never saw Shiori as rivals. They lived in close quarters, practiced together, worked on the student council affair, so it’s fair for Meifan to call Shiori as a comrade, which was ironic because Siegfeld was nothing but friendly. The competition was harsh, the pressure would break anyone who’s not strong enough, just like how this place robbed Yumeoji Fumi her brilliance.

But Shiori stayed behind. She didn’t let Fumi’s legacy overshadow her. She put the effort just to prove that she’s more than just a replacement. Shiori was kind, she worked the hardest, and it’s not difficult to feel rather protective towards her.

Then, there was her jealousy, the ugly thing that reared its ugly head on the back of Meifan’s mind. Shiori loves Akira, that’s what it said. A pair of glossy eyes, Akira in the practice room with her arms wrapped around Shiori’s lithe waist; Shiori held onto Akira, her face flushed and too pretty, as they moved in unison, dancing like a pair of lovers, and Meifan could only watch with chains coiling around her heart.

There was a sense of helplessness inside her, the feeling of wanting to walk forward, to be honest, but didn’t know where to start. It was supposed to be a precocious crush, a belligerent adoration that she had for the well-respected Yukishiro Akira, but the heart was truly a curious matter. Heart could tilt the center of your gravity, make you unable to segregate the reality, make you go crazy; between real conversation and late-night daydream, Meifan wondered if she did the right thing, if her feelings for Akira were real, or she just wanted to monopolize Akira’s attention for some selfish reasons.

She sighed and continued her journey to the kitchen. If she had to be miserable, then she could at least get some ice cream to endure this brutal heat.

“Meifan.”

Akira’s voice was so distinct it’s impossible to mistake her for someone else. As if there’s a switch inside her, Meifan straightened and almost slipped on her feet. Her heart was beating abnormally fast as if she’d just ran a mile. Akira was wearing a white tee and loose pants. A duffel bag was perched on her shoulder.

“Akira-san, hey,” she said, trying to muster up a smile. Her teeth were biting on her lower lip. “Were you practicing?”

“I have a time to spare.”

“You should’ve told me. I’ll be happy to accompany you.”

Akira’s scoff was sort of mocking. “Are you not bored to see me every day?”

Meifan shook her head almost too immediately. “You’re always a sight to look, Akira-san. I don’t think I will get bored watching you practice.”

“If only Yachiyo shares the same sentiment,” Akira added, laughing a little, and Meifan could only stare because this was probably one those rare times when Akira was looking relaxed. “Do you remember that she was against the idea of Edels hanging out on weekends? Even though Michiru had made it clear that we’re just going out for a picnic, Yachiyo didn’t look too thrilled about that.”

“Yachiyo is just lazy. She doesn’t understand that maintaining a relationship is a good thing,” Meifan quickly added with a huff. “That last outing was fun. I think we have to do it again sometime.”

Akira held a smile. “You really like it, huh?”

“Yes. I really like it when we’re all hanging out together because I can see a different side of you,” Meifan commented, blurted, and wondered how in the world she was able to say that with a straight face. “I mean, uh, you’re pretty strict, you rarely talk about yourself, and I’m always wondering to myself what kind of person you are,” she tried, and looked away, realizing that she’d let her tongue loose and talked too much.

Akira just stared. “I’m just good at stage plays. Outside of that, I’m very plain.”

“It’s not true.” Meifan insisted. “I also thought that you’re going to reject the idea too, but you didn’t,” she stumbled forward. With how close she’s standing, Meifan could see how brilliant Akira’s eyes were and found herself unable to look away. “And you did your best to get along with all of us.” Meifan’s mouth curled to a smile and she sighed, confessing. Again, her eyes were cheating on her as they wandered along Akira’s face, drinking every inch of Akira’s skin, and Meifan’s heart ached even more. “And maybe that’s when I realized that I also adore the less serious side of you.”

Akira tilted her head to the side. Her perfect eyebrows raised in amusement. “I don’t need that much of flattery, Meifan.”

“It’s not a flattery!” Meifan flushed when Akira smirked again. Butterflies were sneaking into her belly. The inside of this dorm was cool but Meifan felt like she’s overheating. “I mean it. It’s weird, I know, but I don’t want to upset you again.”

“I’m not upset,” Akira murmured, and they both paused, staring at each other.

Meifan waited, listened to the low hum from the air condition, the noise from a car as it made its way in front of the dorm, and could only stare when she saw her fingers slowly found their way to Akira’s face. The taller girl was breathing slowly; she didn’t run away and Meifan decided that maybe she could do this correctly for once. She pressed closer, her fingers reaching out and touching the corner of Akira’s lips and stayed there.

“I don’t understand,” Akira spoke up after a while.

Meifan’s finger stopped. “About what?”

“You,” Akira replied, gently somehow. There’s a tremble in her voice when she said that too. Or maybe Meifan was overanalyzing things again and her brain just made up some excuses. “Why you’re doing all this just because you want my attention. Or why I can’t seem to be able to understand what you feel for me,” she confessed, baring her vulnerability for Meifan to see. “I don’t know how to reciprocate your feelings, Meifan. This is all new to me and I…” Akira took a deep breath and her voice came out as barely a whisper. “I don’t know what to do about it.”

It took a while to realize that she’d pulled Akira to her embrace. Her arms were clinging around Akira’s body with her face firmly buried on the nook of Akira’s neck. Meifan didn’t care if this was indecent, or what kind of disaster she’d bring herself into.

She just wanted Akira to feel okay.

“Me too,” her voice came rather muffled. It chorused against Akira’s skin. The feeling was there and holding her Akira in her arms felt so right. “I don’t understand too. But I always do stupid things when you’re around me,” she reasoned as she snuggled closer. “Like how I embrace you right now? It’s stupid.”

Unsurprisingly, Akira pulled back first, and Meifan wasn’t in the place to complain. “Yes, it’s stupid,” Akira said after a while. Meifan held her wince. What was she expecting anyway? She steeled herself to look at Akira, expecting the older girl to scowl at her, but all she saw was an amused smirk curling Akira’s lips. “But it doesn’t feel that bad.”

Meifan blushed. Her crush on Akira must have been bad enough to make her flustered like this. “Yes. It’s… not bad.”

  “But I still want to understand,” Akira looked up. Her expression was contemplating. Her mouth opened a little, loss of words. “I want to understand what I really feel for you,” the voice came in low but loud enough for both of them.

The words were lost on the tip of Meifan tongue when she felt Akira’s hand on her hips, pulling her close. Their position was too close to each other because Meifan couldn’t see anything else but Akira’s face. Her breath was stuck on her throat as the room felt suddenly too suffocating.

“Akira-san…?”

Akira was unrelenting as she stared at Meifan, “If I were to kiss you right now, are you going to object?”

Meifan was panicking. She didn’t know what to say. All the confession, all the things she wanted to say to Akira seemed to evaporate. Her brain wasn’t even correctly wired to her mouth and Meifan was too terrified to commit more mistakes. Trembling fingers slowly made their way up Akira’s cheek as Meifan could only stare. Time seemed to move faster and Meifan noticed that Akira’s body was warm and the pressure that’d been gutting her was slowly settling down.

“No.” Meifan’s heart was threatening to jump out from its cage with how fast it’s beating. The bile began growing on her throat as Meifan tried hard not to vomit. “Please…”

The kiss was so sudden, almost knocking Meifan off her feet. Her lungs felt like burning when Akira began sucking her lower lip lightly. When Meifan opened her mouth, Akira decided to get a bit playful as she poked her tongue against Meifan, stealing Meifan’s breathe and making the girl felt like she’s a body without skeleton. Her body was trembling, her knees buckling and she finally fell onto the floor with Akira on top of her. Their lips never parted.

Meifan felt the kiss was ruining her life; she didn’t even want to know how in the world Akira could kiss like that. It’s maddening, sickening, but Meifan couldn’t stop herself from craving more for it.

She hugged Akira desperately; her arms were around Akira’s shoulders, legs on her waist. Her brain was a spinning mess as she couldn’t think of anything else but the taste of Akira’s lips. She even surprised that she reciprocated with same eagerness. Meifan had her fingers in Akira’s hair as she deepened the kiss, insisting that this wasn’t just a dream, and Akira finally loved her back—

“Aki… mm,” Meifan groaned, tearing her mouth from Akira when the ache between her loin became unbearable.

And the kiss suddenly stopped.

The girl was breathing hard. Her chest was raising and falling in synch with her heaving breath. Meifan’s gaze dropped from Akira’s eyes to her lips, those lips that made her crazy. She reached out to caress Akira’s cheek.  

Akira didn’t elaborate. Her face was blank. Slowly, the older girl pushed herself up from Meifan, missing the disappointed look from the flustered girl. Akira then picked up her discarded bag and straightened her shirt. There’s no word to spare from her. It’s as if their kiss never happened in the first place.

The thrill didn’t last long because fright quickly engulfed Meifan when she saw Akira was making her way to leave. Akira’s lack of words and her overall demeanor only confused Meifan further. And while Meifan was clear with her intention, Akira was still wearing secrets as her armor.

“Akira-san!” Meifan finally called, almost cracking her voice. “I didn’t object when you kissed me,” she begged, almost sounding like she’s ready to crumble. Her fingers curled on her chest, gripping on her shirt as if it’s the only lifeline she had. “Please… I want to know what you’re thinking.”

“The kiss,” Akira began. She turned around but her eyes weren’t even looking at Meifan. Her expression was sort of unreadable. “It felt good.”

“And what do you feel about me?” Meifan pressed on. Although it pleased her to know that Akira enjoyed it, Meifan wasn't a fool. She knew that there were other things that she had yet to know.

That seemed to get a reaction because Akira frowned and finally looked at her. The dorm was still empty; silence lingered in uncertainty. Meifan caught Akira fidgeting on her feet, her expression turned difficult as if she’s trying to keep everything together.

Akira seemed to forget about control because she’s clearly stumbling, stuttering between words. “There must be a correct way to do this,” Akira growled. She pressed a hand on her head, fingers pulling on her hair and she had this pained expression on her face. “Meifan,” Akira’s voice was broken. She almost sounded like she’s on the brink of breaking down. “You deserve better than loving someone like me.”

The despair in Akira’s voice was undeniably painful. Meifan almost said things like No, I understand what you mean or you don’t feel the same for me because both of them were true, but it’d be very selfish of her to push her thoughts on Akira like that. She didn’t like feeling like this. Uncertainty was nauseating and abrasive—and just as painful for Meifan as she watched Akira’s feeling slowly manifested into her expression.

Her body felt hot. Grainy bitterness began to bubble on the base of her stomach and Meifan was trembling as she kept everything together.

“What do you know…?”

Akira blinked. Her expression turned confused.

Meifan growled. It’s getting difficult to look at Akira with all the cumulating rage in the back of her eyes. “You said you wanted to know but you didn’t even give me a chance! And why is that? Because I deserve better? What makes you think you have the right to know what’s best for me?”

Meifan was yelling. If there were other students in this dorm, they did a good job by not coming out from their room to interfere. The anger was palpable as Meifan faced Akira with her face wet with tears. She couldn’t believe that she got so worked up over something like this. This Sunday was supposed to be as boring as any other Sundays. Meifan should’ve holed herself in practice or watched animes because that’s the most sensible thing to do. Instead, she dug herself deeper into this hellhole and tremendously frustrated with this whole situation.

 “Meifan, you’re—”

“No, stop,” Meifan replied almost too crassly. She focused on her breathing next, quietly trying to arrange her emotion into a more acceptable level. “Maybe I was a little drunk on your kiss and selfishly assuming things.” She ran a tongue on her lower lip, still able to taste the saline that Akira left on her. “Let’s just blame this on the summer heat, yeah?”

Akira was looking like she’s ready to lash out another string of excuse before quietly swallowing everything. Meifan offered a quick smile and quickly made her way back to her room, her shoulder brushing against Akira’s and not once Meifan ever looked back.

She couldn’t hear Akira’s voice in this room.

But she could hear her own sobbing instead.

Chapter Text

Shiori decided to call Fumi that night.

“What makes you realize,” she asked, “that you’re in love?”

Shiori could hear someone coughing in the background. She hugged her legs tighter to ease the bouncing on her knees. “What do you mean?”

“That you’re in love with Yachiyo-senpai.”

“And you’re asking that because…?”

“I’m curious,” Shiori replied. Her fingers tapped against her bare thigh. It’s unusually hot tonight and she only wore a thin shirt and a pair of boy shorts.

“Shiori,” Fumi sighed, almost sounding like she’s regretting something. “You can’t possibly ask this kind of question because you get suddenly curious.”

“I-it’s true!” Shiori lied again. “Because, you know, Yachiyo-senpai doesn’t have the look of someone who’s easily falling in love.” The girl bit her tongue when she realized how condescending she sounded and quickly added another one, “you must be really special to make Yachiyo-senpai in love with you.”

“She’s more like a weird kid who’s good at sneaking around and playing secrets.”

“So you don’t love her?” Shiori admonished. Her voice’s serious.

“What? How did you even—I didn’t mean it that way!” it was hilarious to hear Fumi so flustered like that. It almost made Shiori feel guilty for teasing her. “I don’t hate Yachiyo, okay?  Yachiyo’s pretty chill and sweet when it’s just the two of us.”

“You’re never honest, oneechan,” Shiori laughed to herself.

There’s a loud, obnoxious cough from the other side of the line before Fumi spoke again. “Anyway, back to our first topic,” Fumi cut in without too much pause. “Why the sudden question?”

Shiori stared.  It’s Tuesday night, her body was stiff after long hours of practicing, a cup of steaming chamomile tea was on the night table together with her untouched homework, and her relationship with Akira had never been this awkward because Shiori couldn’t stop her brain from thinking too much about… things that kept her awake every night.

“Shiori, did you fall asleep?”

The younger girl blinked. “No. I just have a lot of confusing feelings lately,” her brows frowned a little.

“Meaning…?”

“I…” Shiori weighed on her words, trying to phrase better lest it became too awkward for her to mention. “There’s someone I like.”

“Well, you’re at that age, I guess,” Fumi sighed. She’s probably shaking her head too. “Siegfeld has a lot of attractive people, so I understand the feeling.”

Shiori blushed. Fumi might have cut her ties with this school but at least she still remembered the essential thing that made Siegfeld so desirable.

“So, who is it?” Fumi asked again, laughing. “Just don’t tell me that it’s Akira.”

“Well,” Shiori dragged her voice. It sounded annoying but she didn’t know any other way to say it. “I might have a strong feeling for her.”

Shiori braced herself. She had expected Fumi to yell at her, to berate her for being so stupid and careless for even thinking about liking Akira. What came next, as predicted, was a string of low, deadpanned voice.

“It must be another Akira, right?”

Shiori wanted to laugh but she was too nervous to say anything, and the noise that rolled of Shiori’s throat was combinations of a weird cough and pained chortle.

“No. It—it’s her. It’s that Yukishiro Akira.”

“Oh Shiori,” Fumi bemoaned as if she just had her paycheck cut in half. “What makes you think that liking Akira is a good idea?”

Then, there’s silence again, and it’s more awkward than the previous one. Her eyes darted to the side. Sometimes Shiori thought that maybe she had to practice on her acting more because she’d been really bad at controlling her feelings.

“Yeah. It’s probably not a good idea after all.” And the realization came in slow waves, quietly settled in, and Shiori could feel the weight on her shoulders was slowly chipping away. She just confessed—a simple one, no big epiphany, just a slow affirmation that her feelings for Akira might be a little too much to bear. “What I understand is that I love Akira,” she mumbled. “At least that’s what I think it is.”

“You don’t sound too sure about it.”

It’s not something she’d love to hear, but at least Fumi didn’t sound like she’s mad about it, and Shiori thought maybe this conversation wasn’t that bad. She bit her lower lip as she stared at the patch of her duvet where she ‘poured’  her desire for Akira, feeling herself blushing at how unsightly she’d been behaving.

“I kissed her first,” Shiori began. Her voice was small as if someone in the neighboring room would hear her. “She had a headache that day and she slept on my lap. It’s not appropriate, I know,” Shiori quickly added before Fumi could voice her disdain. “Then we kissed again. It was longer than the previous one. And… we almost did the—uh…” Shiori was blabbering. Her cheeks felt like they’re burning. She didn’t know how to say this to Fumi without embarrassing herself. “The, uh, es—”

“Sex?”

Fumi, bless her soul, managed to spell it out with the blandest voice Shiori ever heard in her fifteen years of life. The revelation was almost comical if Shiori wasn’t feeling like an utter disaster.

“Yes. We almost had… sex.”

Shiori wondered what kind of face Fumi was making right now. Disgust might be more proper because Shiori was also feeling disgusted towards herself too. She closed her eyes, breathing slowly through her nose as an attempt to calm herself.

“So, you kissed Akira and almost had sex with her while you’re still wondering if you’re in love with her or not,” Fumi surmised. “You're more like sexually frustrated.”

Shiori nodded to herself, painfully aware how hot her face was. She couldn’t stand the condescending tone in Fumi’s voice. “I know,” she groaned. “I just can’t control myself every time I’m near her. It’s like I’m ready to combust and…” her breath hitched when she remembered the passion that washed over her every time Akira touched her. “I just can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Stop fantasizing about Akira. Your voice is getting breathy there.”

“Sorry!” Shiori quickly added, panicking. She exhaled loudly, burying her face into her pillow and resisting the urge to scream. “Do you feel like that too with Yachiyo-senpai?”

A beat.

“I do.”

Shiori bit her lower lip, contemplating. It’s rude to ask, but Shiori’s mouth went faster before her brain could make sense of her situation. “Have you had sex with her?”

“I have.”

Fumi’s reply was smooth and unhesitating, and Shiori’s mind was wandering again. She didn’t have the exact idea about Yachiyo and Fumi’s relationship, but things must have been pretty serious if they had done something like that.

Which brought her to another question: what kind of relationship did she want with Akira? Did she long for physical affection? Or maybe she wanted to have someone to share an emotional fulfillment?

“That’s something that you should realize by yourself.” Fumi’s voice entered her head and Shiori realized that she just voiced her thoughts to her sister. “When did you realize that you’re craving for Akira?”

“Craving!?” Shiori almost shrieked. “That sounds… vulgar.”

“I’m not the one fantasizing about Akira,” Fumi didn’t miss a beat. “Spill it, little sis.”

That excuse didn’t amuse Shiori, but Fumi was willing to listen to her and Shiori realized that this was Fumi’s way to help her.

Shiori stared into space, then swallowed, and clawed her fingers along her thigh, marring her skin with five red marks. She started looking for words, trying to rehearse them into words because, at the very least, she had to make herself sure that her feelings for Akira were just as real.

“Like that time when we’re practicing. Akira’s hands were warm and I like it when she held me. She can be strict but she always encourages me to become better."

Shiori began. Her head was leaning against the pillow as she got comfortable.

“Or that time when we performed Beauty and The Beast, how she pushed me forward so I could give my all to the role,” Shiori bit her lip. Her eyes were slightly widening. “That was the first time I realize that I feel something for her, that I start to look at her differently.”

“That sounds more like admiration than love if you ask me."

“I wanted to think of it like that too, believe me, I did,” Shiori insisted although she wasn’t sure how honest she was with that statement. “But I can’t get rid of that feeling. Akira-senpai is irresistible. Everyone admires her and I’m not an exception. When she recruited me to be Frau Jade—” Shiori instantly bit her tongue, realizing that she should’ve never mentioned that one thing to Fumi. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean…”

“She recruited you to be Frau Jade and?” Fumi asked again, seemingly more annoyed that Shiori cut her explanation halfway.

“And I thought that time I wanted to impress her,” Shiori continued, talking slowly, almost too carefully. “People often compared me to you, but she was different. She insisted that I deserved the position because I have the capabilities and not as a mere replacement.”

If she were a terrible person, she should’ve told Fumi that it’s also painful to be always under Fumi’s shadow and she had to work extra to prove herself.

“Akira always has good perception of other people’s talents,” Fumi added. Her voice sounded somber. “But she never bothered to get to know other people on a personal level. That’s why she often said cruel things at times.” Fumi was talking from experience, Shiori understood. She decided not to pry further. “And how about when you kissed her?”

That kiss was a problem, Shiori decided.

“I was curious,” she blurted out. It’s not a lie, but there were many things she didn’t understand too. “I wanted to know what it felt like to kiss someone.”

Fumi was being patient with her because her voice was gentle when she asked, “And then?”

“I’m getting greedy,” she confessed, ashamed about it. “I want more. I’ve never been this greedy in my entire life and I’m scared that it’d consume me,” she was shivering as she said that. She breathed deeply, counting on her pulse before speaking up. “I can’t even make up my mind if I love her or just lusting for her touch.”

Tears began to well on the corners of her eyes. She was scared. This feeling was new and Shiori was too powerless to do anything. It would’ve been easier if she could just ignore it but what she did to Akira was unforgivable. The onslaught of want that kept surging within her made Shiori feel dirty. She was no one, while Akira was the star that she desperately tried to catch.

“Does anyone else know about this?”

 “I think Yachiyo-senpai has some ideas, otherwise… I don’t think anyone else knows.” Shiori shook her head, wiping the tears off her face and sniffling a little. “I’d lose it if Akira-senpai ends up hating me for doing that.”

“Well, Akira might look scary and serious when she’s on a role, but she’s awkward about everything else.” A sardonic laugh escaped from Fumi’s throat as she pressed on. “You’re probably scaring her by being so bold.”

Little did Fumi know that this simple revelation did wonder to inflate Shiori’s ego. The younger Yumeoji was blushing and she couldn’t hold her grin at the fact that she might have control over Akira in a way that no one else would ever have. “I never intended to do that,” she bashfully replied.

“Sure you did,” Fumi added with a dripping sarcasm until Shiori had to wince. “Meifan doesn’t know about this, right? She can be rather obsessive when it comes to Akira.”

Shiori’s not ignorant. It’s clear as day that Meifan had been holding her admiration for Akira far longer than Shiori, but unlike Shiori, Meifan held her adoration in a positive disposition. She didn’t let lust overshadowing her logical thinking and preferred to have a healthy rivalry with Akira. And while Yachiyo often said offhanded comments about Meifan slightly obsessive infatuation with Akira, Shiori always thought that it’s just Yachiyo’s weird way to show her affection to Meifan.

“Meifan-senpai is fine, I think.”

“You think?”

Shiori hummed, trying to sound convincing. “I want to think that she’s fine.”

 “Siegfeld is already as tough as it is with rivalries for the roles. I don’t want to see your relationship with Meifan sours if she knows what happened between you and Akira.” Fumi’s tone held some sort of warning. “Meifan is a kind girl but she’s competitive at heart. You should try to keep everything low until you get a grip on your situation.”

Shiori bit her lower lip, trying to keep her brain from thinking too much. “I know,” she muttered to herself.

But Shiori knew her feelings were problematic. Akira was attractive but Shiori couldn’t deny that Akira was also frustrating. Sometimes her feelings for Akira would overlap she couldn’t decide if she had to hate Akira or falling deeper for her.

And if Shiori were braver, she would ask Akira if she could be that person for her.

*

“Did something happen?”

Both of them were at the table as they tried to finish their homework. It’s one week before the finals and soon the weather would get a lot hotter once August arrived. With finals closely approaching, her schedule was getting a lot more hectic. Lessons were abundant and some of the lecturers decided to assign them to write essays too for extra credit.

Meifan was grateful for this, honestly. The more she kept herself busy, the less she got time to wallow in self-pity though she’s not immune to accidental breakdown every time her eyes clashed with Akira’s.

It’s embarrassing. She remembered that her parents once told her that they’re descendants from a family of respected soldiers and nobles living in prosperity under the Han Dynasty. If her ancestors were around, they must be either laughing at Meifan or berating her for being so weak because of love.

“What?”

“When I left you alone that Sunday,” Yachiyo stated. Her eyes were glued on her essay with her fingers diligently clacking against the keyboard. “Something happened with you and Akira-senpai, right?”

Meifan’s mouth thinned in response. “It did,” she said. “She rejected me.”

The clacking noises stopped. Meifan didn’t need to look that Yachiyo had her mouth gaping at that statement.

“That’s weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Meifan’s hair wasn’t styled in her usual side ponytail. It was loose and draped on her left shoulder, shining duly under the lighting like crow’s wings. “Akira-san rejected me.”

“Damn, that’s blunt of you,” Yachiyo commented. She turned her attention away from the essay and focused on Meifan instead. “What did she say?”

Meifan wanted to ignore Yachiyo, but she couldn’t stand that Yachiyo was expecting her to say something. She stayed frowning and put her pen down, shifting her weight to her arms as she leaned back.

“She said I deserve better than loving someone like her,” Meifan confessed, sort of wincing when she realized that she still felt sore from that one.

“That doesn’t quite sound like a rejection.”

“I want to think of it as a rejection,” Meifan sighed. “If she didn’t have anything to say, then it means that she felt nothing for me.” She clicked her tongue in disdain. “And she said it right after we kissed too.”

“Was the kiss just a small peck of lips like what you did or real kiss with tongues and all?”

There’s a cushion within Meifan’s reach and it took a lot of self-control from the girl to not throw it to Yachiyo’s face. This was usually one of their usual banters but Meifan wasn’t in the right mind so Yachiyo hit that particular spot right there.

“The thing is,” Meifan’s voice went a bit louder as she tried to keep herself from blushing. “Akira-san has made it clear that she didn’t share the same feeling and the least I can do is to respect that.”

“And what are you going to do if she, let’s say, begins a relationship with Shiori?”

Meifan’s mouth went off quicker than she predicted. “It won’t happen.”

“It can happen,” Yachiyo shot back. “She must have a reason why she rejected you. And if that reason is Shiori, then you can’t throw the possibility that Akira might have a relationship with Shiori out of the window.”

Meifan felt like she’s ready to fight Yachiyo. Her fingers curled to fists and she growled. Her chest was heavy and Yachiyo decided to drop another bomb that made Meifan wanted to lash out at how unfair everything was. Her jealousy was still there, and that selfish part of her wished that Akira would reject Shiori too if the younger girl ever confessed to her.

Meifan rubbed her eyes. That annoying needles began pricking on her eyeballs again. And as she looked over at Yachiyo, the girl returned staring back at her with a look that’s a mix of concern and amusement.

“Meifan, just say that you're bitter.”

“I’m not!”

Yachiyo scoffed, reaching over to Meifan and cupping the girl’s cheeks, forcing the girl to look at her in the face. Meifan lowered her gaze; her throat felt a little tight too.

“Meifan, you won’t do yourself any favor by lying.”

“Lying about what?” Meifan growled, swatting Yachiyo’s hands off her face. The touch singed her skin and reminded Meifan of many things she’d rather forget. “Fine, I’ll tell you the truth. I hate this. I hate how everything turned out and left me hanging in uncertainty! I’ve made myself clear for what I feel for her, but Akira decides to become so fucking indecisive like she’s trying to give me hope for something that would never be true!”

Yachiyo could only stare. Good. Because Meifan still had many things to say.

“I want to say that I love Akira. And I do not want to say it just in front of her. I want you to know. I want Michiru to know—hell, I even want Shiori to know! I want Akira for myself. I want Akira to see me and no one else!”

“You know you can tell her that,” Yachiyo said. She’s being gentle, which Meifan thought was worse because Meifan realized that she’d gotten so low to be the receiving end of this undeserved kindness. She couldn’t even hate Yachiyo for that.

“I know I can,” Meifan replied. Her breathing came harsh and infuriated. It’s frustrating and everything started to boil at once. “But I’m not like you who’s foolish enough to love someone who left because she’s too weak to make her decision. I’m not going to sacrifice my sanity by joining the revue just because I need some clarity to get my feelings right. No. I’m not going to do that. We don’t need another idiot in this place—”

Meifan was about to walk away when she felt a harsh tug on her sleeve and her protests died on her tongue when Yachiyo held her by the collar of her shirt. Yachiyo was quiet, deathly so. There’s fury in Yachiyo’s eyes, glaring and burning, as Yachiyo took her moment to observe Meifan.

“If you have the time to insult me,” Yachiyo’s whisper was just as sharp and heavy as she held Meifan in her grasp. “Then maybe you should take a longer time to think of your choices and doing the right thing for once. Insulting me won’t make Akira-senpai magically love you back, Liu!”

It’s frustrating to be on the receiving end of Yachiyo’s anger but Meifan realized that she deserved it. Ironically, Meifan comforted Yachiyo the first few weeks after Fumi’s departure. She’s the only one who had seen how broken Yachiyo was, the first to uncover the vulnerable girl who hid behind the mask of vanity and fooled everyone else with her smile and innocuous tease. Meifan only saw the surface of Yachiyo’s grief, yet she’s also cruel enough to pry the wound open.

Meifan gritted her teeth and pushed Yachiyo’s off her. Her conscience told her that she should apologize because she’d just insulted Yachiyo—her only friend, over something trivial. The look that Yachiyo gave her only got worse in every second until Meifan was sure that Yachiyo was able to murder with her glare alone.

“I’m going out,” Meifan muttered to no one, silently wishing that Yachiyo would prevent her from going away.

What Meifan heard was deafening silence and it continued even after she closed the door.

*

There’s a sense of tranquility as Meifan walked in the crowded city streets.

All these noises, the sounds, the chattering of people slowly made her senses go numb. Eyes forward and Meifan let her mind wander. She’s thinking about her family, mostly about her mom’s cooking and her sisters bickering every time they stay together for dinner. The memories were jolly and Meifan’s lips curled to a smile. Thinking about her family was the safest option. It reminded Meifan of easier days.

Honestly, Meifan was happy in Siegfeld. It was by her commission too that she applied for a scholarship so she could enroll in Siegfeld. Meifan loved her friends back in her hometown, but her dreams extended beyond the walls of her previous dancing academy.

As Meifan watched how brilliant the girl who played the Celestial Goddess in that video, Meifan decided she had to go out and meet that girl in person. Meifan wanted to see that brilliance with her own eyes, to feast on the glory and grace of the girl who brought the role of the Goddess to life.

And when she stepped into the depths beyond Siegfeld main gate, Meifan was sure that she’d sold her soul to the demons so she could climb that stairway to meet the Goddess in her paradise.

That paradise, however, was a garden full of frozen flowers, roses plagued with thorns and vines, and Meifan’s fire wasn’t strong enough to ward off the blizzard.

She caught someone belting a note from one of the restaurants. A man, probably drunk too because some of the phrases sounded off in Meifan’s trained ears. His breathing technique was much worse because as he heaved in between words; he failed at ad-libbing some of the parts, making his voice sounded rougher than it needed to be. The singing was a wholesome mess. Meifan should’ve hated it.

She didn’t.

That rough voice, that horrible breathing technique, and that off note phrase evoked a sense of comfort within her. The voice numbed her combusting nerves as Meifan slowly counted numbers in her head.

Strange that a random man was able to make her feel at ease more than any ballads that Akira ever sang. The mess that was her mind began to untangle, the needles had stopped pricking, and Meifan started to see how bright the neon lights were…

And the girl who stood in front of her was looking at Meifan with wide eyes.

“Oh, you’re from Siegfeld.”

The girl’s voice wasn’t rough. It’s soft, dragging, almost sounding like she’s close from falling asleep. Her honey-blonde hair peeking from behind the red parka she’s wearing, a red hair clip was present on the left side of her bangs to keep strands of hair away. If she was surprised to see Meifan, her placid expression did nothing to give away that thought.

“Yes. And you’re…”

“Tanaka Yuyuko,” the girl stated. Her voice was small and easily overwhelmed by the noises around. Meifan was able to recognize Yuyuko’s voice almost too easily. “You’re Liu Meifan, right?”

She scratched the back of her head, letting out a sheepish smile over someone who remembered her name. “Yeah. I’m glad you remember me.”

Yuyuko offered a little shrug. “I can’t forget someone who had taken part in defeating our school in the audition.”

Meifan winced. She wasn’t expecting that answer. “Sorry for that,” she’s unable to find better things to say. “But that’s in the past, yeah? We’re cool now, right?”

Yuyuko didn’t immediately reply but she took her time to observe Meifan as if she’s trying to commit Meifan into memory. And as Meifan continued to stare, she noticed that the girl had a pair of round, dopey eyes that shone brightly under the city lights. They’re not as bright as Akira’s but there’s a certain determination behind the undiluted unassertiveness, a strength that Meifan was unable to measure.

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Yuyuko spoke up after a while. “So, what are you doing here?”

“Um, just sightseeing,” Meifan replied. She almost slipped on her shoes too.

Yuyuko’s brows rose at the statement. “Sightseeing at 7:30 in the evening?”

“I love neon lights,” Meifan quickly added, feeling ashamed at her lame excuse. “And what about you? Rinmeikan is quite far from here.”

Yuyuko adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder before answering. “There was a rakugo performance nearby,” she answered slowly. “And nobody wanted to come with me so I went alone.”

Meifan wasn’t an expert in Japanese traditional art but she heartily respected the philosophy behind it. With how time moved forward and a shift in traditions, it’s also pleasing to see that some younger generation still appreciated the traditional way, even devoted their time to study the old art.

“Was it fun?” Meifan asked. She never went to see any rakugo performance so she’s getting a bit curious about it.

“It was fun. For me. I can’t tell if my idea of fun is the same as yours.”

The tone of Yuyuko’s voice was nice. Every syllable that came out from lips was clear and sharp as if she’d trained herself to speak like that. The choice of words she’s using wasn’t the most polite but there’s a certain kindness that tickled Meifan’s curiosity.

“Where are you going now?” Meifan forced herself to ask. It was bad enough that she’d been bluntly staring at the girl. She’s not supposed to do that. It’s rude and Yuyuko was a stranger to her.

“Back to the dorm, but I probably stop by the convenience store to buy some food.”

At the same time, Meifan’s stomach was also growling. Angry was an understatement to describe what Meifan was feeling when she  left the dorm. That unfortunate confrontation with Yachiyo had made her forget that she hadn't had dinner.

Her mood was considerably better now, but the hunger remained and Meifan was embarrassed once again.

“It looks like someone forgets her dinner,” Yuyuko commented with a smirk. She looked around and missed that faint blush on Meifan’s cheeks. “How about we find a place to dig in? I don’t think two onigiris would be enough for you.”

“I-it's fine. You’re going to miss the curfew if you stay here.”

Yuyuko glanced at her. “Meh. Don't sweat it.  I'm used getting home late,” then she offered a smile. “And besides, I always want to have a chat with students from another school.”

There’s a laugh bubbled in Meifan’s throat. It felt weird, a bit misplaced. Meifan didn’t feel like she’s stumbling anymore as she nodded her head.

“Sure. Let’s go.”

*

The family restaurant they’re visiting was packed with people, so the pair decided to have their table on the furthest booth for some privacy.

Yuyuko was ordering omelet rice with extra tomato ketchup and Meifan had a big bowl of ramen. It was unwise to dig so many carbs this late but those two didn’t seem to care. They’re a pair of hungry teenagers. The stomach came first before the diet. To hell with the ideal weight of a stage girl.

Yuyuko was looking at her weird when Meifan took off her shoes and fished a 10,000 yen bill from the insole. “Why would you do that?” she asked, pointing at the bill with her spoon.

“I saw this in the manga I read,” Meifan replied with a wide smile as if it’s something worth to be proud of. “The protagonist always saves emergency money inside his shoes. It helps him during tough times.”

“And you decided to do that too?”

“Hey, it’s okay to pick up good habits. You don’t know what kind of misfortune will come at your way.”

Yuyuko stared for a brief second before resuming eating her food. “So you consider dinner with me as misfortune?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

Meifan didn’t want Yuyuko misunderstood her. The fight with Yachiyo still made Meifan uncomfortable and Meifan didn’t have any intention to chalk another failure on her list.

“I mean, if someone steals my wallet, or I got stuck somewhere I don’t know or—”

Meifan panicked rant was cut short when Yuyuko let out a chortle.

The Rinmeikan student had pulled down the hood of her parka and Meifan could see Yuyuko's face as she laughed softly. In contrast with the sharp and blinding light from the neon outside, the gentle glow from the ceiling had mellowed the color of Yuyuko’s face, making the girl looked soft and prettyー

Wait, what? Where did that come from?

“I'm joking,” Yuyuko added, still with a subtle smile. She leaned back on her seat and stretched her arms out. “You don’t have to be so serious around me.”

Meifan resumed slurping on her noodles, trying to distract herself from the blunder she’d plunged herself into.

“Found something interesting during your night stroll?” Yuyuko began again. She waited for Meifan’s answer while sipping on her tea; her eyebrows rose in innocent curiosity.

“No. I just need to clear my head for a bit,” Meifan reasoned. She’s not entirely lying about it too. “Finals will come soon and I don’t want to burn everything out before that.”

Yuyuko hummed. “You’re right. Practicing all the time is tiring, not to mention boring,” she nodded her head in agreement. “And Fumi-senpai has been strict with the lesson too. Her training menu is insane and I don’t get it why we should work that hard to pass the test.”

It’s Meifan’s turn to laugh now. “I know that feeling.”

“Was she like that too back in Siegfeld? Oh don’t mind me, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“Fumi-san was strict, but not as much as Akira-san,” Meifan added, blinking to herself when she realized that she hadn’t been thinking about Akira since she started speaking to Yuyuko. “Edels training menu is different from the regular students.”

“So it’s a Spartan training.” Meifan held another laugh. Fumi must have left the poor girl traumatized. “Geez, no wonder she’s so mad the first time she saw our performance.”

“How’s Fumi-san?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Still fighting with Ichie-san, still grumpy and strict like a drill sergeant nasty she is. Well, you know how the rest,” Yuyuko provided with a shrug before looking up at Meifan. “And how’s Tsuruhime-san?”

Meifan shifted on her seat. “Why are you asking me?”

“Just curious. I know Fumi-senpai and Tsuruhime-san are practically a couple now, but Fumi-senpai rarely shares about her relationship even when Ichie-san asks her about it.” Yuyuko poked the ice cubes with the straw, unaware of the slight discomfort on Meifan. “I don’t know anything about Fumi-senpai or why she walked out from Siegfeld. I always thought that having a relationship with someone from your former school would be awkward for both sides, but Fumi-senpai seems content with it even though it kills her to admit that in the first place.”

“Yachiyo and Fumi-san were close. I think, Yachiyo admired her first,” Meifan began. Her voice was slow as she tried to recount the memories of days where Fumi was still the Frau Jade. Before Shiori came to the picture. “And Fumi-san was kind enough to return Yachiyo’s affection. They often practiced together, had lunch together, studied together.”

Yuyuko hummed in response, still idly poking the ice cubes.

“Tsuruhime-san must be sad when Fumi-senpai left.”

Meifan pursed her lips. She remembered that Yachiyo was furious the day when Fumi left. It’s almost impossible to look at Yachiyo’s eyes without feeling a shiver running down her spine.

“She was angry,” Meifan said, voice barely above a whisper. “But she’s definitely the saddest compared to us all.”

Yuyuko was looking at her briefly before focusing on the ceiling. The chatters around them sounded like white noises as both Meifan and Yuyuko were deep in their thoughts. This conversation reminded Meifan that she still had to go back to the dorm and faced Yachiyo again.

“I can’t imagine if that ever happens to Rui,” Yuyuko spoke up after a while. Her gaze was still upward. “If Tamao-senpai ever leaves Rinmeikan, Rui would’ve been devastated.”

Ah that girl, Meifan thought to herself. Rui’s presence around Tamao felt more like a bodyguard instead of an underclassman. The girl was sweet and docile when Tamao talked to her, but that demeanor quickly changed into something more protective and almost territorial when there’s a stranger nearby.

"Rui-san looks close with Tomoe-san."

“I mean, Rui’s life revolves around Tamao-senpai. She wouldn’t know what to do if Tamao-senpai’s not around,” Yuyuko continued, slightly scoffing. There’s a slight change in Yuyuko's voice but Meifan couldn’t put her hands on it. “If Tamao-senpai leaves, the best-case scenario is Rui would follow her. And the worst is she’s going to be depressed.”

Meifan could sympathize. Yachiyo didn’t go that far to transfer school so she could be with Fumi, but the incident turned her into a walking mess and almost cost her title of Frau Perle.

“I don't want to see that happen.”

“Tomoe-san leaving the school?”

Yuyuko shook her head. “Seeing Rui go.” She took a deep breath, seemingly in a conundrum whether she had to tell Meifan about it or not. “She's my best friend,” she muttered, more to herself than to Meifan. "And the only one I've ever had."

There’s distress in Yuyuko’s voice. Subtle, but it’s there, and Meifan felt her heart dropped. She had seen that look before—that forlorn look when you bear a strong feeling for someone but couldn’t do anything to stop it from swallowing you whole. She bit her lip, fingers curled to a fist, and Meifan could hear herself asking,

“Do you…” her voice clogged in her throat, “love Rui-san?”

She prayed that Yuyuko wouldn’t answer that. It’d be better if Yuyuko got angry at her for being privy to other people’s problems. The girl just sat there, staring at Meifan with that same expression. Seconds ticked by and Meifan thought that maybe she had to say something to undo the words she should’ve never said when Yuyuko’s voice beat her to it.

“I do.”

Meifan stared.

Such was a misfortune.

Chapter Text

Michiru would never say that Siegfeld was an ideal place to make friends.

In a school where the competition was highly encouraged and everyone sacrificed their blood, sweat, and tears to get a position as Edel, friendship was a rare treat.

Every girl in this school lusted to become one. Aside from the obvious benefits, becoming an Edel provided you the means to get roles in Elysion, Siegfeld’s most renowned stage play. Many of Siegfeld’s alumni had their places on the world’s best theater troupes. Having Elysion listed on the resume was a guarantee to become the next top star in the theater world.

Michiru understood that most girls in this academy would do anything to get the position. Some of them were fair and worked hard to achieve their dreams. The others would resort to cheap tricks and dirty tactics like sabotaging their peers or making their way with bribery.

Michiru wasn't a hypocrite. Tricks and strategies were necessary when she decided to become an Edel. Her reason wasn't entirely altruistic, but she hated people who treated Edel’s role no more than bragging rights and undervalued the responsibilities that followed the prestigious title. Michiru had a dream, larger than the dancing halls of Siegfeld and brighter than the spotlight of Elysion, and Michiru would work damn hard to make it come true.

Michiru understood that she couldn’t work on her dream alone. The role that she’d prepared was perfect and she would need a perfect actress to bring that role to life.

Yukishiro Akira was her first choice—an exact choice because Michiru didn’t want anyone less than perfect to act on her stage. Michiru had spent a long time carefully constructing the roles for Akira to play. She’d spent so many sleepless designing and corroborating ideas to create the perfect stage. It’s overly ambitious of her, Michiru understood, but she also realized that this sacrifice was nothing compared to the glory she’d reap in the future.

Michiru didn’t expect that things would get worse than this.

Small conflicts were common in the student council. It could range from Meifan scolding Yachiyo for not taking student council job seriously to Akira had to sit everyone down to give a stern lecture about discipline and responsibilities. None the worse for wear. Everyone was sensible enough to understand and put aside their differences to achieve the same goals.

This time was different. The scent of adversaries was thick, filling the air with a stench that made Michiru flinch. Usually, she’d brush it off and put her perfect smile as she breezed through the room before focusing her mind into a more serious task.

Her eyes went to Akira first. Her best actress was sitting on her chair, currently checking on the documents. Nothing was out of place except that Akira brought a bottle of barley tea on her own. Considering that Shiori was the one taking charge of everyone’s afternoon tea, it’s rather jarring to see Akira preferred to drink a 300 yen bottled tea from the school’s vending machine instead of the exquisite 5000 yen blend that Shiori handpicked.

Michiru quietly sorted through her work. The silence was indeed unsettling.

Shiori was sitting in her usual place and in the middle of typing something on the laptop. The poor girl was trying to look unaffected but Michiru could easily see past the façade. Shiori was nervous, her shoulders were uncharacteristically squared, and she looked like she’s ready to blow up if someone decided to poke on the wrong fuse. Then, she diverted her attention to Yachiyo and Meifan.

Michiru always believed in these two to make the situation less awkward. Meifan and Yachiyo’s banter was fun to watch. Meifan was too serious at times and Yachiyo’s existence was like a counterbalance to ease Meifan out from usual strict self. And while Meifan didn’t always enjoy Yachiyo’s teasing, Michiru knew that Meifan and Yachiyo’s friendship was necessary to keep the positive dynamic between them, especially after the disaster that’s Fumi’s sudden departure from the academy.

Michiru didn't know whether she had to laugh or weep when she saw Yachiyo and Meifan. Yachiyo, ears plugged, was currently working on the monthly financial expense report, pointedly ignoring Meifan, who was looking at her with an expression of a puppy abandoned in a rainy alley. Meifan was trying to get Yachiyo’s attention, but the other girl didn’t seem to care about her. If the situation was less serious, that lost puppy look was great on Meifan. Michiru even considered giving Meifan more dramatic roles in the future because, honestly, who in their right mind could deny that hapless, heart-wrenching eyes?

Except, well, if you’re a natural cold-hearted bitch or a Tsuruhime Yachiyo.

For the next few minutes, Michiru managed to focus on her work to ignore the obvious calamity around her. Akira didn’t scold her for coming late. Instead, she talked to Michiru in short sentences, preferring to get to point before holing herself to the paperwork. From the corner of her eyes, she saw that Shiori was quietly observing them, stealing glances to Akira, but did nothing to voice her opinion. Meifan also tried to get Yachiyo to talk to her, only to receive ‘Hm’s or ‘Yeah’s from the girl, which prematurely ended their already nonexistent conversation.

Michiru couldn’t stand this. The tension was too suffocating. It’s like that day before Fumi left all over again.

“Okay, what’s going on with all of you?” she finally asked, looking at them straight in the eyes. Yachiyo was the only one who didn’t look away from her work until Shiori had to tug on the sleeve of her blouse to get her attention.

“We’re working,” Akira said, raising her brow as Michiru just asked a stupid question. “We have to clean this up before focusing on the finals next week. I thought you're aware that we do this every year, Michiru.”

“Yes, but we’ve never done this with such hostility that’s enough to choke the life out of me,” Michiru leered, almost rolling her eyes. She crossed her arms and let out a huff. Her small stature didn’t make her any less menacing. “Spill it. Did one of you kill someone’s pet behind my back?”

“Not to that extreme. No,” Shiori answered. Her voice was small and unsure. “I think we’re just a bit on the edge, you know, because of finals.”

Michiru scoffed, shortly forgetting that she’s not supposed to treat Shiori like that. “I understand, but that’s not enough to explain why Meifan had to look at Yachiyo like she’s going to sell her soul to her.” Meifan was sinking deeper into her chair, cheeks flushing, and Yachiyo was not too pleased with that statement. “Or how you, Akira, don’t seem to care or even notice that Shiori’s acting strange around you.”

Everyone was looking down. Guilty as charged. 

“Shiori is right,” Akira said. “We’re just stressed out because of finals. And, as you have pointed, it’s not an excuse for us to act like this.”

“Good point, Akira. Now let me see if you can put that theory to use,” Michiru added. Her lips quirked to a smile that’s enough to burn Akira’s skin like acid.

“I’m sorry, Michiru-senpai,” Meifan opened her mouth; her voice was lacking the usual boastfulness. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.” she ran her eyes to Akira, then, to Shiori, and finally to Yachiyo. Regret was clear on her face, and Michiru always appreciated Meifan’s sincerity to admit her wrongdoing.

“So, any volunteer to tell me what really happened?”

Another silence. Michiru was suspicious that everyone conspired to make her life harder than it needed to be. “Fine, you don’t want to tell me,” Michiru said, anger slowly crept up to her expression. “Lucky that we have finals next week, eh? At least, the exam can make me forget how messy all of you in dealing with your problems.”

That seemed to hit the nerve because Akira was twitching a muscle, Shiori was blushing hard, and Meifan looked like she’s ready to jump out of the window.  Yachiyo was an exception because she didn’t try to hide her smugness, obviously enjoying Michiru’s wrath to these poor souls.

“Michiru,” Akira warned. Everyone else would’ve cowered when they heard that voice, but Michiru had seen that anger too many times she’d grown bored of it. “Watch your mouth. You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

“And that makes you an expert because you know what you’re doing?” Michiru didn’t miss a beat. She’s too tired to deal with any of this. “Look, I’m not going to dwell further in this teenage drama. Don’t bring your whining and crying to the council room,” Michiru warned as she eyed everyone in this place. The playfulness in her voice was gone. Nobody talked back.  Akira even hung her face in shame.  “Dramas are for the stage, not for the student council. We’re still under the committee’s watch, so don’t try to do anything funny.”

Michiru didn’t have to mention names, but she noticed that Yachiyo was shifting on her seat. Shiori too.

The short girl sighed. Her hands were already full and now she had to remind these kids to behave too. The school didn’t give her enough credit for this.

“Now that we’ve found common ground. I have an announcement for you all,” Michiru continued. “We’re going to have a new stage play this summer.”

That seemed to shift the mood between them. Even Yachiyo was looking rather pleased with this change of atmosphere. Michiru waited for a while before continuing.

“Class B is currently working on the script for the new play. They told me that they'll send us the first draft on Monday after the finals.”

“What kind of story?” Meifan asked, curious.

“I still haven’t gotten the details yet so I can’t tell you much, but one of the writers told me it’s going to be an original story with some elements adopted from Faustian legend.”

“Well, that’s interesting.” Yachiyo offered her thought. “Faust is a tragedy, right? I’m curious about what kind of twist class B writers are going to present us. They’re skilled scriptwriters, if I may say so myself.”

“So are we going to practice during the summer vacation?” Shiori asked.

“Of course.” It’s Akira’s turn to answer. She already played her role as the student council president. Her voice had regained its usual authority as she spoke up. “This is something that you should’ve understood, Shiori.”

“Akira’s right. We might spend around two weeks of vacation rehearsing. The stage play will be on Siegfeld’s annual summer festival after all,” Michiru nodded. Her smile came out a little easier now that her mood was slightly better.  “That’s why I’m looking forward to it and you guys should too. At least, you can release all those pent up frustrations during the play, right?”

“You really can’t let go of that one, huh?” Akira grumbled.

“Just pointing the obvious,” Michiru winked without giving care that Akira was displeased with all of this. “Now that the ice has broken, let us begin the jolly cooperation to finish the council task!”

Michiru’s overflowing energy was like sunlight that washed away the stormy clouds. The sudden change in the mood worked well to divert the girls’ attention from their woes. Shiori was offering to make tea, which Akira hesitantly agreed, and Yachiyo asked Meifan if there’s something she could assist her with.

The storm has passed, but the dark clouds were still hanging high.

Michiru might not share the same problems as them, but Michiru was also a teenager.

At least she understood that trouble with love was more than capable to mess some people in the head.

*

This week was exhausting

Meifan already finished her essays, already memorized the exams materials, perfected her dancing and singing, and prepared all the things she required for the upcoming finals. It’s not possible to get any meaningful rest this weekend, but Meifan thought that, at least, she could rest a bit easy knowing that tomorrow was Sunday.

Meifan was on her bed, scrolling through her contacts when she stumbled upon Yuyuko’s name. It’s a kind of unplanned on her part as she quietly typed her greeting.

Hey. Are you going to sleep?

Yuyuko replied after a few seconds. She put a cute, sleeping puppy as her icon. Meifan chuckled. She always had a soft spot for puppies.

Just about awake. Gonna practice for the exam right now.

Meifan frowned. The clock showed that it’s almost 10.

It’s pretty late to start practicing now, right?

I function better at night, but I’m available if you want to talk.

Meifan enjoyed her conversation with Yuyuko. The girl was calm, smooth, and well-educated too. The way she articulated her wordings was enough to keep Meifan interested. Even though she looked sleepy and talked like she’s ready to fall asleep at any second, Yuyuko was great at sharing her knowledge with Meifan. She's surprisingly talkative too as she shared Meifan about Rinmeikan, her interest in Rakugo, books, and other things related to Japanese traditional arts.

Nothing is interesting to say anyway.

Nonsense.

You wouldn’t text me if nothing is interesting going on.

Or do you want me to choose a topic for you?

Meifan quickly replied. Try me, and hit the send button.

Have you apologized to Tsuruhime-san?

Of course, Yuyuko would ask that. The image was still fresh on Meifan’s mind when Yuyuko gave a well-deserved side-eye when she told her about the spat she had with Yachiyo. To make things worse, Yuyuko also didn’t hold back from telling Meifan that she’s an awful human being to hit Yachiyo where it hurt the most.

I tried.

But she’s still ignoring me.

What do you expect?

You insulted Fumi-senpai too. That was uncalled, so no wonder she ignored you.

Then again, getting angry at Tsuruhime-san was unfair to her no?

The door creaked open just as Meifan finished reading the reply. Yachiyo stepped inside the room, already in her pajamas. A towel was covering her head. Her expression didn’t give anything to tell Meifan what she had in mind. As expected, Yachiyo didn’t bother to greet Meifan and proceeded to sit on her bed and dry her hair.

This would kill her, Meifan thought. She couldn’t keep doing this. Putting down her phone, Meifan turned her attention to Yachiyo.

“I’m friends with Yuyuko.”

That one was random, and Meifan held her wince because it did nothing to break the awkward silence between them. Yachiyo didn’t even bother to look confused as she continued drying her hair that Meifan rudely interrupted.

“Good to know you’re starting to expand your horizon beyond Akira-senpai.”

Ouch. Yachiyo wasn’t exactly a cruel person. She often teased Meifan, but that’s because all was in good fun and no one would get hurt in the end.

This, however, was painful to listen to.

Meifan tried again.

“Do you want to go with me to Omotesando? There’s a fashion exhibition tomorrow and I think you should come to get new references for your next design.”

“Since when do you care about what I like?” Yachiyo asked, dubious. Her delicate brows rose in question.

Meifan gulped. This conversation had turned south faster than she imagined. Who would’ve thought that she’s really bad at making small talks too?

“I…” Meifan replied, surrendered. “I thought that bringing this up will make you talk to me again.” She chewed on her lower lip; crying would shatter her image further in front of Yachiyo. Her eyes felt hot again. Meifan balled her fists, trying to keep herself from falling apart.

Time moved forward. Every passing second felt longer than before as Meifan inwardly cursed herself for being so pathetic. She wasn’t an excellent communicator like Michiru. There were many times throughout her life when she would stumble on her words and make a mess of herself. She could brag about her strengths and all. But talking to people, like really talking to them with emotions attached, was never her strong point.

She heard Yachiyo snort. When she looked up, Yachiyo’s eyes were warm as she gave out a small smile at her. “Oh, Meifan,” she said, almost sighing. “You really love to pull that wounded puppy look on me, aren't you?”

"Huh?" Meifan blinked, brows furrowed in confusion. “You’re not angry?”

“I stopped being angry at you on Wednesday,” Yachiyo shrugged almost too casually as if she’s just talking about the weather.

“Then why don’t you tell me that!?”

“I need to punish you,” Yachiyo pointed out and Meifan was shrinking on her bed again. “What you said to me was low, Meifan. I understand you’re angry with how everything turned out, but that didn’t give you the right to speak lowly of Fumi. You’re talking shit of someone you don’t know and that’s where I have to draw the line.”

Yachiyo said nothing but the truth, and that didn’t make Meifan feel less guilty. Again, words were lost on Meifan. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.

“You should.” Yachiyo sighed. “Just… try to think before saying anything,” she stated with a low voice, “because words can be just as painful, if not more.”

Meifan swallowed that grainy bitterness down her throat, feeling like an utter idiot for almost destroying their friendship. Yachiyo didn’t leave, Yachiyo was kind enough to forgive her, and it only added more guilt to Meifan’s overbearing conscience.

She didn’t deserve this kind of kindness.

“I’m going to sleep,” Yachiyo informed Meifan. “Goodnight.”

The lights were off. Hours ticked by, but sleep didn’t seem to come easy to Meifan. Eyes wide, Meifan stared at the last message Yuyuko sent her, contemplating if she had to tell Yuyuko about this.

Her fingers moved faster.

Yachiyo forgives me….

It took 5 minutes and 20 seconds for Yuyuko to reply. Meifan counted as she nervously refreshed the message screen. Her stomach growled in anxiety when a new reply came in.

I’m happy to hear that.

I feel like I don’t deserve it. Yachiyo is too kind.

Do you feel sorry?

Meifan stopped. She peeked at Yachiyo, caught a glimpse of pink hair in between the darkness.

I regret everything.

 She’s your friend, and you’re lucky to have her.

Can you be my friend too?

Meifan was too late to delete the message. That blue, double-check signs were staring back at her as Meifan helplessly waited for Yuyuko’s response.

Her phone buzzed.

I’d be delighted to, Meifan-san.

*

Nighttime was simple.

Akira was sitting on the couch, a book in her hand, as she flipped through the pages. The only time she felt at peace was when she’s alone with her books and her feelings didn’t feel like straitjackets.

She loved nighttime for this purpose. It’s cold, dark, and gentle. There’s no blinding spotlight, no people’s stellar expectation weighing on her shoulders, and Akira could safely bare her soul without fear of scrutiny.

She didn’t struggle in the dark. There’s a melancholy in it too; one that made her stop and think about her choices, about the things she should’ve said and done, about her fears, and the lies and truths she’d spent her life believing.

Akira wasn’t a dreamer. She’s pragmatic, and she only had one goal in mind. Life hadn’t been too sweet on her but Akira marched forward. It’s the only thing she’s good at. Her faults, her failures, had made her this far, down the path of stardom.

Her passion was only for the stage. There’s just no other way.

But the stage was elusive. It had too many secrets, and the darkness wasn’t as comforting. The vulnerability was just a mask of her character. Everyone had their parts, but how was she to know which way the story goes when she had no control over it?

Akira put the book down, feeling frustrated at how chaotic her mind was. In the end, she still had no idea what she was doing. No wonder Meifan was furious when Akira dared to tell the girl what's best for her when Akira was still at loss about many things too.

Such arrogance was befitting for a top star, but, in the end, it only managed to isolate Akira from any meaningful relationship. There’s no excuse for such behavior. Akira was a hypocrite and if Meifan ended up hating her, Akira would accept that without a second thought.

She walked out of her room. Her migraine was coming back. It happened a lot and Akira chalked it up to stress and pressure. Migraine was uncomfortable. It made her unable to sleep; it reminded her of that afternoon when she had her kiss with Shiori.

That kiss. That one bloody kiss that started this mess.

Her body moved on its own and before she knew it, Akira already stood before Shiori’s room. It felt like an out of body experience as she saw herself knocking on the door. Again, Akira was stupefied. Her mind told her to leave, to stop making more mistakes but when her ears caught a soft click of the door unlocking, she understood, rather painfully, that she had nowhere else to go.

“Yukishiro-senpai?” Shiori’s eyes were wide as she looked at Akira. It made her somehow forget how to breathe. “What are you doing here?”

I don’t know either, she tempted to say but chose to purse her lips. Shiori was kind enough to open her door for her and Akira didn’t have any intention to devalue herself even lower by saying unnecessary things.

“I have a migraine,” she decided. It’s safer this way. “Do you have some aspirin?”

The moment was unreal. It’s like watching a movie where both of them knew how it would end. A terrible déjà vu, but none of them was willing to do anything to alter the outcome—to alter the mistakes they’re going to commit.

“I have,” Shiori told her. For once, the girl did not stutter, did not falter. Akira could even feel the sheer determination as she let herself lost inside those clear eyes. “Come inside.”

It wasn’t a request. Shiori opened the door wider as Akira stepped in. Another soft click followed as the world outside ceased to exist between them.

“I don’t have a couch,” Shiori began. She, too, was shifting on her toes. “So you can sit on my bed.”

Akira should’ve rejected the offer. Strangely, she nodded her head, wordlessly sitting on Shiori’s bed as she watched the girl opening her drawer where she stored her medicine. Again, she only offered a small hum of gratitude when Shiori brought her the pills and a glass of water.

“You should get some rest,” Shiori told her once Akira put down the empty glass. “It’ll be bad if you get sick once the final starts.”

“You don’t look like you’re resting too.”

What followed next was a mirror of a scene from a romantic comedy. Shiori was blushing and making face, pouting at Akira for pointing out the obvious but said nothing to deny the accusation.  Just like that scene where The Beauty tended to the wound of The Beast.

“I’m studying,” Shiori said, finally, as she sat next to Akira. Their hands almost brushed, and Akira could only watch. “Just because I’m a student council member, it doesn’t mean I can slack off.”

Akira felt a smile curling on her lips. “Of course. It’d be embarrassing if any of us has to take make-up exams right?”

Shiori replied with a chuckle. Akira was half-serious with her statement, but seeing how Shiori seemed to relax around her made Akira feel a bit better.

Akira was staring at Shiori and Shiori saw nothing but Akira. They stayed like that for a while, lost in each other’s existence, and while the attraction was mutual, there’s this obvious barrier between them that neither Akira nor Shiori could tear down.

“Are you angry at me?”

Akira was expecting this question, but she didn’t know it’d be this fast.

“Why would I why feel angry at you?”

“Because you’ve been avoiding me,” Shiori told her. Scooting closer, Akira felt her heart rate went a bit faster when Shiori’s knees brushed hers. “I was wrong to push my desire on you without considering what you feel about it.”

Her fingers twitched; the itch of wanting to touch Akira returned.

“I’m not angry,” Akira replied. Her voice had started to lose its cool. “I just didn’t know how to… react. A meek girl like you wouldn’t even think to do any of that. And yet…” she shook her head. There’s no way she would bare herself in front of Shiori more than this. Akira ran her fingers over her hair. Her breathing was trembling and tired. “You know, I’m thinking about you a lot.”

The chains coiled tight around her chest as a bitter chuckle rolled off her lips. “I’m thinking about your face, your eyes, lips, your smile. What you do when you’re alone, what kind of presents you want for your birthday.”

The way Shiori looking at her made Akira crumble. Shiori made herself an open target. And while Akira was still trying to keep herself together, Shiori had surrendered. Shiori wouldn’t fight back, and Akira wanted to be angry about that.

“I’m thinking about your kiss and your touch. I can’t forget the way you look at me, like what you’re doing now. How can you be so open and… true with your feelings, and act on it even though you have no idea if it’s right or wrong. And  I—”

Akira's breath hitched. Shiori’s hand covered hers, fingers curled around her wrist, and Akira was powerless to do anything when Shiori held their clasped hands on her chest.

“Are you scared?” Shiori smoothed her thumb against Akira’s knuckles. The question had a considerable weight that made Akira almost want to throw up with how intense it was.

Her voice was trembling as she said, “Yes.”  Akira watched Shiori as the girl began kissing the skin of Akira’s hand. “I’m scared of you, Shiori.”

Shiori laughed. Her voice sounded warmer than Akira expected. Shiori had always been pretty, and her smile was gentle. Her mouth wrinkled with some kind of delight.

“I don’t bite,” Shiori muttered.

“You do,” Akira said, almost whispered. She used her other hand to touch Shiori’s cheek, the pads of her fingers pressed gently on the skin.

Akira couldn’t decide if Shiori understood her. Probably not, but Shiori’s face fell into a mix of seriousness and honesty, something that made the knots in Akira’s stomach pushed and pulled in pain.

“I’m thinking about you too.”

The word stumbled out of Shiori’s mouth. Boundless, sounding like an accident, as Akira stopped to stare.

“I want to be able to talk to you, I want to sit next to you and ask you about things you like. I want to hold your hands, to kiss you, and I want to tell you that I love you without feeling guilty for hurting you because I know that’s just as stupid too…”

They stayed like that for a while. Their breathing mingled in the air of Shiori’s room; the air conditioner was humming slowly in the background, giving out a sense of comfortable silence between them.

Akira, for once, didn’t feel like she’s ready to combust as she gently touched Shiori, letting her fingers roam across Shiori’s face, her thumb pressing against Shiori’s lips.

Then, Akira threaded her fingers into Shiori’s hair and pressed forward. She didn’t rush, she took her time, and she captured Shiori’s lips with her own, kissing Shiori as if she’d finally found her place to stop. Her body moved forward and when she finally pulled back, she saw Shiori below her, flushing and looking she’s ready to give more.

“I want to start slow,” Akira said against Shiori’s mouth, teeth scraping at her lips. “I’m scared of many things, I’m scared of hurting you, and I…” she kissed Shiori again. Each kiss felt more like breathing.

Akira was trembling. She didn’t even realize it until Shiori pulled her to her embrace, tucking Akira in her warmth as if it’s the most natural thing to do. Akira wanted to run. Her head started to spin as she buried her nose on the nook of Shiori’s neck.

In this one moment, Akira forgave herself for showing weakness. Shiori smelled like jasmine, colored with sweat and something sweet. It reminded Akira of the empty dancing halls, of the late afternoon sun, and the weird nostalgia of something that never happened.

“I’m not saying I’m braver than you.” Akira didn’t recognize Shiori’s voice. It sounded mature, reserved, yet bore a distinct uncertainty that made Akira’s heart bleed a little. “I don't even know what to do from now on,” a laugh and Akira snuggled closer until there’s nothing separated them. “Michiru-senpai is right. We’re all terrible at this.”

Akira chuckled, quickly composing herself before she did something stupid.

“We are,” Akira muttered against Shiori’s neck and closed her eyes.

Just for tonight, Akira wanted to be selfish.

In this cold darkness, where Shiori was warm and Akira had nothing to hide.

Chapter Text

Finals were exhausting.

Students scrambled down the hallway in a hushed whisper and hurried steps. Music echoed from inside the dancing halls and it’s common to see one or two girls weeping their guts under the staircase after a seemingly botched performance. Time suddenly moved too fast and everyone seemed to get irritated at the smallest inconvenience.

Akira always tried to keep everything cool. She supposed it was just something that she must do considering all the responsibilities she had to bear. Akira would keep her mouth shut and place the most stoic expression ever known in the history of Siegfeld while waltzing her way through exams and performances and came out on top as if it was preordained. Her name would be on the praise of the teachers, on the admiration of the juniors, and the bitter jealousy of the seniors.

None of them mattered to Akira. She had her stage, she had her purpose, and she’d win that top spot because there could be no one else to deserve that place.

However, something had changed.

Akira had been wasting the past ten minutes glaring at the clock, waiting for the bell to ring. Written test scheduled on the last day and the topic mostly involved history and literature. Usually, Akira would take her time constructing her answer; add some details and trivia because there’s this ugly satisfaction for understanding something that even the teachers didn’t know.

Her shoes tapped impatiently against the floor. Her stomach curled in uneasiness. Never had she felt this restless—this impatient, before. She read her exam paper again to divert her mind to something more practical, but she couldn’t write anything else because the paper was already full of her handwriting.

Then, she’s thinking about lunch. Seafood fried rice sounded good and Akira would order it with extra chili, hoping that the spiciness would help her mind from thinking too much and—

The bell rang and the teacher announced for everyone to stop writing as she began collecting the exam papers. They’re still not allowed to walk out from the classroom, which irritated Akira more than she’d like to admit.

“The results will come out next Monday. Good job everyone, and have a good weekend.”

Akira stood up from her chair, her bag on her hand, and dashed out of the class. She made her way to the council room with one purpose. Michiru wasn’t with her and Akira thought it was a rather refreshing change. No one greeted her; some girls gave her a polite nod and excited giggles but none of them dared to talk to Akira.

She didn’t care. Akira only wanted to see one person anyway.

Her steps didn’t bear the usual dignity on them. Akira skipped two steps as she climbed the stairs, almost tripping on her shoes. As the distance grew closer, Akira was able to feel how her heart pounding a bit too hard. She could hear it in her head, ringing against her eardrums, as Akira finally stopped in front of the council door.

There was nothing remotely remarkable about that door except that Akira noticed slight chipping on the painting. She should ask the committee for some repainting, but that could wait. Then, she grabbed the handle. It was cold against her fingers and Akira realized that she’d been shivering. It was summer, the weather had been swelteringly hot, and yet here she was, shivering to the bone as if she had a fever.

Akira breathed. She had to do this. There’s no need to panic.

The door clicked open and as Akira stepped in, she’s only looking at her.

Head of golden hair turned to face her, and time slowed down for Akira as her eyes finally caught that smile.

 “Yukishiro-senpai, hello.”

Shiori handled the general affair in the council so it’s not weird to see her coming earlier to tidy up before everybody else came. She’s usually in charge to prepare the document, but everybody knew that Shiori had a talent in preparing a magnificent cup of tea. And as Akira stepped in, the air already scented with the rich fragrance of the tea that Shiori was currently brewing.

Akira nodded and closed the door behind her. She took a moment to breathe, to take everything in, mostly trying to calm herself because she didn’t want to risk talking to Shiori while the beating of her heart might echo in her voice.

“I just finished brewing tea. Would you like some?”

Shiori asked, turning her back to pick a cup that Akira usually used, still blissfully ignorant with Akira’s frustration, and the older girl could only stare.

As much as Akira hated to admit, final weeks worked pretty well to distract her mind off Shiori. There’s no student council activity during the finals and Akira often spent her time studying and rehearsing. She rarely encountered Shiori during that time, which Akira thought it’s a good thing. Failing the exam was unforgivable no matter how messed up her feelings were.

The morning when she tiptoed out from Shiori’s room, Akira had come to a realization that she’d committed to another lifetime regret. It was unplanned; Akira wore nothing but her heart on her sleeves while trying to keep her dignity together. She wasn’t expecting answers, but somehow, in a twisted way possible, she got more than she bargained.

And the helplessness that she tried to ignore had grown stronger. It coiled around her chest like a rusted chain, squeezing her from the insides. Akira was tired. She wanted to stop, to be honest, because she realized that her ego had pushed Meifan away and she didn’t want to create more damage than she already did. Shiori was kind, gentle, and she deserved everything that Akira could never provide.

But Shiori didn’t break. She didn’t bend. Shiori opened herself first, and Akira wasn’t ready with that kind of honesty. Shiori was overwhelming, and Akira wasn’t lying when she said that she’s scared of her.

Akira made her way across the room.  Another mistake was on the way, but she had too much in her head she couldn’t bother to care.

It felt like an out of body experience when Akira pressed her body onto Shiori’s back, her hands on Shiori’s waist, and her nose buried on the softness of Shiori’s hair. Shiori’s body was shorter, prompting Akira to bend down. The position was uncomfortable, but Akira didn’t mind having a slight ache on her lower back.

Akira snuggled closer, breathing the jasmine scent deeply as if it was the drug to her fever.

“What’s wrong?” Shiori asked. She sounded calm but there’s a slight hitch on her breath when Akira pressed her palm on Shiori’s stomach. It didn’t go unnoticed to both of them.

“I want to see you.” The voice that came out from Akira’s mouth was soft, almost like a whisper. “I can’t give you a better explanation than that.”

Shiori didn’t need one. Her fingers traced the side of Akira’s cheek as she turned to the side, capturing the barest glimpse of Akira’s face that’s hidden from sight. “I miss you too, Akira.”

The itch returned. Akira thought that it’s unfair that Shiori could easily make her feel thousands of different things just from calling her name. Having a relationship with Shiori would never be easy, Akira realized this, and as much as Akira wanted to give Shiori everything she had, some things made it difficult for her to bring that wish into reality.

Akira pulled away first, almost swooning when Shiori reached out to touch her cheek.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” Akira breathed the question. It’s more of curiosity even though Akira was anxious that she might push her chance a bit too far.

“No. I just didn’t expect that you’re going to hug me.”

“So you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” Shiori insisted. She tiptoed and pressed a kiss on the corner of Akira’s lips. “it’s a surprise, you know. I’m happy that you start to open up with how you feel.”

Akira didn’t blush, but she looked away and slightly fidgeted on her feet.  

“Don’t expect too much though,” Akira told her. It was supposed to be a warning but the smile on Akira’s face betrayed her true intention.

“We take it slow, I understand,” Shiori agreed. She’s smiling too. The afternoon sun was invading the room, casting a golden light over Shiori and Akira wanted to commit this beautiful being to her memory. “You might run away again if I go too fast.”

The pout came up to her like an impulse. “I’m not running away.” Shiori’s brows rose in a delicate amusement. Akira cleared her throat. “It’s just… I’m still learning about how I feel for you.”

Akira looked away again, feeling cornered. This wasn’t how she thought this conversation would go. She could recite her script perfectly, her acting was unmatchable, and it pissed her off that she found talking to Shiori was harder than any roles she ever played.

It was then Akira caught a spark in Shiori’s eyes. They’re bright and playful; there’s also naughtiness brimming within that made Akira’s stomach pulled into knots. “You don’t have to learn anything. What you feel is not a script of a play that you need to analyze so seriously.”

“And what if I mess it up again?”

Akira asked back. It felt like going through performance anxiety, only this time the consequences would extend more than just bad reviews. She remembered Michiru’s words and the scowl got deeper. She hated that Michiru was always correct about everything.

 Shiori was quiet, but the look on her face said it all: the frown, the way she quietly chewed on her lips—Shiori was just as clueless as Akira. They could have all the praises for being the Edels of Siegfeld, but in the end, they’re just teenagers. They’re just as confused as everyone else.

“I can mess it up too,” Shiori confessed, looking up at Akira with some sort of helplessness. “It’s not fair for you to take all the blame.”

Akira felt bitter. How in the world a word of a girl two years younger could make Akira feel like this?  Her pride was wounded. She’s supposed to be older one and yet her articulation regarding this matter was still far below the standard.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” she growled under her breath.

“Think of it like this,” Shiori took Akira’s hand and clasped it firmly. “If Yachiyo-senpai and my sister can make it, then there’s no reason for us to give up halfway!”

Akira blinked, confused. “Yachiyo and Fumi? What do you mean?”

“Um… they’re dating?” Now it’s Shiori’s turn to get confused as she eyed Akira suspiciously. “You don’t know about it?”

“I just knew that Yachiyo fought Fumi in the revue,” Akira shrugged. She remembered that she scolded Yachiyo once (because of losing), but she wasn’t paying attention to anything else. “Are they…?”

Shiori laughed. It sounded just as sweet as her singing. Akira would’ve loved to enjoy it if Shiori wasn’t laughing at her. “No wonder you’re bad at reading situations,” Shiori chortled as she shook her head. “Even Michiru-senpai knows about this.”

“Well…” Akira huffed. It was partially her fault for not trying to keep up with the situation, so she couldn’t say anything to justify it. “Maybe I should try to understand the situation around me better.”

“You should,” Shiori replied, still holding Akira’s hand in hers as she stepped closer. “Or you’re going to miss a lot of things.”

Akira inwardly shivered, slowly coming to a realization how her body seemed to react differently every time Shiori was around. She looked down to their entwined fingers, trying to convince herself that this moment was real, that she and Shiori had become something that Akira only ever saw in her dreams.

Something soft was pressing on the corner of her mouth. She looked up, finding Shiori smiling at her. This time, however, the smile was two times brighter, three times prettier.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

 “I feel happy.” Shiori laughed softly under her breath, obviously embarrassed. “To be with you like this, it feels like a dream. Don’t you think so too?”

 “No… yes, no,” Akira let out a chuckle, shaking her head. How the mighty had fallen indeed. She wouldn’t say that she’d changed, but Akira understood that her past self would’ve been embarrassed to the bone with how she’s acting right now. “Screw that. No. This is embarrassing. We need to stop this,” she said with a laugh. The mood was too comfortable as Akira tightened her hold on the smaller girl.

Yes. Akira was still scared. Fuck it, she’s scared of many things, but Akira didn’t pull away. She took her chance. Her fingers crept on the line of Shiori’s jaw, teasing on the skin, and Akira received a slight gasp from Shiori as a present of her petty bravery. The blush dusted Shiori’s cheeks in faint pink. It looked pretty, and Akira thought that Shiori was desirable when she acted like a confused teenager.

“Akira…?”

“Me too,” Akira sighed, almost stumbling on her voice; her fingers gently caressing Shiori’s cheeks. “I’m happy too, Shiori.”

She wanted to do more than this. Akira wanted to run away, take Shiori with her, and just be somewhere that’s not here, and while it was a perfect answer to encapsulate what she had in mind, it’s still too fast for both of them—just for Akira, frankly, because Akira was messy and clueless on many things.

“Let’s just continue working.”

“That’s unfair,” Shiori pouted.

Akira pulled away, feeling the disappointment growing as she watched Shiori’s face. No. Perseverance is something that she must do. Her desire was one thing, but Akira wasn’t a fool for sacrificing everything just because she’s a bit of in love.

“Now, shall we get ready before the others come? I still won’t tolerate slacking off during student council meetings.”

“Of course,” Shiori agreed, already walking to get a folder where they usually stored the documents. “If you’re slacking off, I’ll be the first to remind you, Yukishiro-senpai.”

Akira shook her head and muttered 'smart girl' under her breath.

*

The final week for Rinmeikan Performance Department was relatively quick. The tests didn’t take very long considering they only had five people.

They performed a play that their teacher picked, followed by the dancing session in the second half of the first day. The second day examined their interest in other forms of art. Yuyuko picked rakugo. Tamao was stellar in her koto performance and managed to attract students from other departments. Ichie, surprisingly, did well by combining her pop idol dance routine to traditional Japanese dance. Rui’s swordplay exhibition was the highlight of the day. Students from other departments were flocking outside the class just to get a glimpse of the girl who played the charismatic Onikage.

The attention was unwanted, and Rui almost missed most of her cues because it was difficult to concentrate with all that pawing and purring from behind the window. Fumi chose to perform the Man'yōshū, an anthology of classical Japanese poetry and managed to outdo the teachers' expectations because no one in Rinmeikan, especially a transfer student, was able to incite the poetry as perfect as Fumi did. Yuyuko thought it was quite fitting because Fumi never half-ass everything.

The third day was a written test and when the teacher told them to put down their pen, Yuyuko felt her brain had squeezed dry and her body yearned nothing but the comfort of her bed.

Yuyuko preferred to be in her dorm room. Makes the most sense because she only interested going out when there’s a rakugo performance or her parents called her home. There’s safety in being in her room. The dorm didn’t have many people too and Yuyuko always appreciated a calming silence. It felt nice.

But the dorm was less calming when Rui’s around. Because Rui always had a reason to talk about Tamao-senpai: about how pretty the flowers were because Tamao-senpai singlehandedly took care of them, about how beautiful and graceful Tamao-senpai as Otohime in their Urashima Taro play, about how heavenly Tamao-senpai’s singing voice.

Tamao-senpai is incredible, she often said that, and Yuyuko didn’t feel like arguing.

Rui was helping Tamao with errands today, and Yuyuko was glad that she didn’t need to burn her ears for having to listen to Rui’s incessant babbling about Tamao.

Yuyuko didn’t hate Rui, not even when the girl was being overbearing. Yuyuko wished that Rui would never change. Rui was awkward, a bit too shy, and even though it hadn’t been that long since they shared a room, Yuyuko admitted that she enjoyed Rui’s company the most. It’s fascinating to see Rui seemed to shrink every time she’s surrounded with people she didn’t know and how easily Rui switched around to become an ecstatic ball of eagerness every time Tamao praising her. For Yuyuko, however, seeing Rui’s growth as a stage girl was something that she admired the most.

Rui was in no way bad at playing her roles. She’s still growing; her stage presence was enough to capture the audience’s attention, and Rui was able to pump out a considerable amount of charisma too if she put her mind to it. The Tale of Onikurenai was the moment where Yuyuko realized how charming Rui was. The girl’s acting was superb; Rui’s emotion was so palpable until Yuyuko had to put more effort because it’s hard to take her eyes off Rui. Whatever private training Fumi provided was working perfectly, and Yuyuko found it a bit difficult to talk casually to Rui because she couldn’t erase Onikage’s existence every time she saw Rui.

It was easier to think of it as admiration. Yuyuko realized that she’s not the only one who admired the charming ninja. The play was a hit and everyone in this school was having a little crush on Rui. Those feelings were growing steady even after the play ended months ago. Yuyuko didn’t envy Rui for being the center of attention, but she sympathized with Rui and could only provide a small pat on the girl's back, asking Rui to never forget their friendship once she got famous.

It’s a joke, obviously, and Rui wasn’t amused. As Yuyuko had expected, Rui went to Tamao for better reassurance.

Yuyuko wouldn’t call Tamao and Rui as girlfriends, but that was just her bias talking.

Tamao did it first; a few stolen kisses, holding hands when they’re crossing the street, and falling asleep with Rui tucked comfortably on her lap was something that couples would do. They lived in close quarters for a full year, and Tamao was not as oblivious as she presented herself.

Rui was a wreck when it came to her emotions towards Tamao. And while Rui was still stuck in her daydream, Tamao decided to take a lead like a good upperclassman she was. She pulled Rui to her, she embraced Rui, kissed Rui, and poured all her affection to Rui in a way that no one else could.

The sad thing? Yuyuko knew that was it for her. She knew times, places, moments where Rui was so into Tamao until Yuyuko questioned herself that maybe she’s a glorious masochist for hanging onto Rui this long. Or the time where Yuyuko just wanted to grab Rui by the face and tell her that she wanted Rui to pay attention to her, to smile at her, and to become someone worthy of her undivided attention.

That’s when things became scary.

“Oh, you’re here.”

Yuyuko blinked. The door was wide open and she turned around to see Fumi standing by the threshold.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you coming,” Yuyuko said, unplugging her earphones. She’s planning to listen to her rakugo playlist when she got distracted. “Welcome, Fumi-senpai. Is there anything I can help?” she greeted as she walked to the door.

“I’m just returning Tamao’s book, but she’s not around,” Fumi waved a book in her hand. The front cover looked old enough to be in the museum. Where or how Tamao could find such an ancient manuscript was always beyond Yuyuko. “Sorry, am I disturbing you? You look kind of distracted.”

Yuyuko shrugged. “I’m just sleepy.”

“Definitely. You look comfortable lying on Rui’s bed.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s your parka on her bed, right?”

Fumi laughed and it sounded smug. This senpai was a special case because she was the most levelheaded between the gentle Tamao and the energetic prankster Ichie. It’s probably a Siegfeld thing too because Yuyuko could see some resemblance between Fumi and Yukishiro Akira. Yuyuko’s mouth twisted; she felt cranky, and Yuyuko let out a groan.

“She has this Tempur-pedic mattress that feels good for sleeping.”

Fumi sighed. “You’re bad at lying.”

“I’m not lying,” Yuyuko didn’t want to argue, but she also knew that Fumi would never let this slide, and she could feel words already crawling in the back of her throat. “Rui’s out, so I think it’s a good time to have a rest,” she muttered, feeling ridiculous for how she’s acting. “And I need to calm myself too. The finals… were kinda grueling, you know.”

Fumi sighed too, maybe because she knew that excuse was lame but didn’t want to offend Yuyuko more than this. The dorm was quiet as the air strummed between them, slowly and comfortably. Yuyuko waited, picking on her skirt, as she tried to find something interesting to see.

“Why don’t you come with me?” Fumi started slowly. “Let’s see if I can whip up something for you.”

“Just me?”

“I plan to ask Tamao and the others too, but I think you need this more than them.”

Yuyuko raised her brows. “Am I looking that depressed?”

“You’re lonely,” Fumi surmised. “Look,” the older girl shrugged. “I’m not trying to become privy of your matters. And no, I’m not going to console you because I know it’s annoying to receive an unwanted encouragement. So, I’m just going to offer you hot meals in my place and maybe you can sort things out?”

Fumi was perceptive and nothing scared Yuyuko more than people with a keen sense of observation. Yuyuko wasn’t cunning, but she always had a way to get out of every situation when things started to get sticky. Her sleepiness, despite how it brought inconvenience to other people, actually helped her a lot in most cases. Yuyuko could sleep in the middle of a conversation when the topic became uncomfortable, leaving people exasperated, but it was a safer option than exposing herself more than necessary.

She couldn’t sleep on Fumi, unfortunately.

“Fine,” Yuyuko replied, almost giving up. “I can’t possibly reject any invitation when it comes to free food.”

Fumi snorted. “I know. I like food too,” she said before motioning her head to the exit. “Come on”

*

Fumi’s apartment was a fifteen-minute walk from Rinmeikan. It was a modest five-story building where most of the occupants were mostly middle-classed families. It didn’t have any automatic panel like those expensive mansions in Minato City, so each guest must report directly to the front desk. Usually, there’s a middle-aged man taking care of the reception, but he’s nowhere to be found so Fumi just took Yuyuko to her room.

The interior was nothing near interesting. The paintings on the corridors were chipped, the floors were a bit uneven, even Fumi complained that the elevator was having its third maintenance this month. And as Yuyuko followed Fumi from behind, she could listen to some interesting noises from the room, and almost tripped on her feet.

“Don’t mind them,” Fumi told her, seemingly unaffected. “They just moved here a month ago, and often do that, even in broad daylights.”

“Oh,” Yuyuko supplied, feeling awkward. “Must be weird to hear that all the time.”

“They’re couples, but yeah… I think they should turn down their hormones a bit,” Fumi laughed with a shake of her head. They stopped in front of the second to last room on the corner and Yuyuko waited as Fumi fished the key to unlock the door.

“What the…? It’s unlocked?”

Yuyuko perked and cautiously observed her surroundings. “Burglar?”

Fumi opened the door and peeked inside. When she turned to Yuyuko, her smile was sardonic. “Just a thief coming uninvited,” she chuckled to herself. “Come on in.”

Yuyuko followed in. She was in the middle of taking off her shoes when her nose caught a delicious smell of seafood from the kitchen area. Her words died on her lips when she saw a girl with a pink hair prancing towards Fumi and jumped to the girl’s embrace.

“Oof!”

“Welcome home, honey!”

If this was Ichie, Fumi would’ve never thought twice to throw the girl off her, but Fumi kept both of them steady and her expression was limited to a slight discomfort as she held the girl in an intimate bridal carry. This girl, Tsuruhime Yachiyo-san, definitely had the girlfriend privilege that Ichie could only dream about.

“The dinner is ready but you took your time coming home.  Did you go to the bar and drink with your friends again?”

The saccharine fueled voice almost made Yuyuko cringe. It almost sounded like those exaggerated voice acting in recent anime.

“I hate it when you’re speaking like that,” Fumi growled. She didn’t make an effort to push the pink-haired girl off her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Fumi-san, welcome home.”

Yuyuko knew that voice before the person arrived on sight. Meifan came out from behind the sliding door, an apron tied around her waist, and her sleeves were rolled above her elbows. She still had her usual side ponytail and looked rather flushed when she saw Fumi and Yachiyo’s compromising position.

“Yachiyo, get off of Fumi-san.”

“No. This is comfortable.”

“But not for me!” Fumi growled in exasperation. “Seriously how did you even get in? Did you break the lock?”

Yachiyo conveniently hopped off Fumi and landed next to Meifan. A sheepish smile spread across her face as she scratched the side of her cheek. “Don’t blame me that you’re too poor to change the lock. I already told you so many times.”

Fumi crossed her arms on her chest, sending a death glare to Yachiyo’s direction. “I can call the police, you know,” then she turned to Meifan. “And you helped her too?”

“I told her to wait until you come back!” Meifan quickly defended herself. “But Yachiyo was impatient and just barged in.”

Yuyuko almost chuckled. Meifan was visibly distressed the last time Yuyuko met her. Seeing Meifan this energetic, or panicked, like this, was better than the sad and somber girl who sat with her on the family restaurant a couple of weeks ago.

“Relax, calling the police is a hassle and I’m too tired to deal with them,” Fumi waved her head in dismissal. “Can I just come in? My guess here is starving.”

“Hm? You bring someone with you?” Yachiyo peered from Fumi’s shoulder.

 “Yuyuko-san?”

Meifan walked passed Fumi and Yachiyo and stopped in front of Yuyuko to take a good look at the girl. Meifan was too close and Yuyuko almost wanted to pull her hoodie lower when Meifan’s eyes clashed with hers.

“Hi, Meifan-san,” Yuyuko muttered, almost looking away, but Meifan’s eyes were sharp and she’s drawn to them again.

“Hello,” Meifan greeted her back with an easy smile. “It’s been a while since the last time we talked.”

Yuyuko cleared her throat. She felt nervous, which was ridiculous because she should’ve never felt this nervous towards someone, much less someone who blatantly asked her to become their friends just a week ago.

“Oh good, you already know each other,” Fumi commented. Yuyuko just hoped Fumi didn’t realize how uncomfortable she was to have Meifan standing this close. “Now that we have skipped the pleasantries, let’s eat.”

Fumi’s disgruntled voice and Yachiyo’s obvious delight in teasing the older girl sounded like background noise as Yuyuko stepped inside with Meifan following her. Meifan’s gaze was like a snake on her back, twisting knots between her shoulders and making her suddenly too conscious of her appearance. She wanted to strike a conversation but what kind of topic she should talk about? Yuyuko wished she could just run and return to the dorm. She made a mistake by coming here.

All the dishes were on the table and plates out. The cooking looked extravagant as Meifan proudly told everyone that this was a famous recipe from her hometown in China. Yuyuko gingerly took a piece of stir-fried shrimp, almost moaning in delight with how juicy it was when she chewed it. Fumi was looking like she’s this close from crying because no matter how good of a cook Fumi was, it was also not a secret that the girl was living on a budget so this must be some rare treat for her.

“You look really happy, Fumi,” Yachiyo commented as she decorated her bowl with other side dishes.

“That’s because the food is good,” Fumi muttered after swallowing her food. “I’m still not happy with you breaking into my house though.”

“Aww, that’s mean. I love giving you surprises,” Yachiyo protested.

“You keep breaking in, my neighbors will get suspicious and call the police on you,” Fumi reminded with a warning look. “And that means another Edel bites the dust. Not a pretty scenario, right?”

Meifan nodded in agreement. “Fumi-san is right, Yachiyo. Even though you and Fumi-san are dating, it’s still impolite to break in.”

Yuyuko turned to Meifan, suddenly interested. “Did she really break the lock? Like those in movies?”  

“Yes! Ugh, I can’t believe that she knows that thing!” Meifan’s eyes were wide as if she’s about to explain that she just saw unicorn stomping around Siegfeld’s main garden. “I thought she’s going to do something when she took out her sewing kit, but the needles look different and before I could ask her, the door’s already unlocked.”

The smug on Yachiyo’s face was visible. “Keep the praises coming, Meifan.”

“I’m not praising you!”

Fumi’s face was conflicted. “I think I have an idea who will end up as a criminal in the future.”

“Not me! I'm not going to taint my family name by going to the juvie,” Meifan deliriously shook her head and sent a look to Yachiyo.

Yachiyo’s brow lifted, feeling a bit offended. “What? I’m not planning to become a thief. Those fashion houses in Paris and New York are waiting for me,” then she returned her attention to Fumi and caressed the girl’s cheek affectionately. “You can come too, darling.”

Fumi’s reply was just an exhausted sigh. “Sometimes I ask myself why I even bother to keep up with your nonsense…”

“It’s because you love me.”

Yuyuko made an ‘o’ sound under her breath. It’s amusing to see Yachiyo easily obliterated everyone with her wits. Meifan looked understandably annoyed and preferred to stuff her face with food. Fumi, bless her soul, was visibly blushing and it looked like she’s in the middle of feeling a thousand different things all at once.

“Thing is I’m going to change my lock. And none of your sweet talks will change my mind.” Yachiyo was pouting and Fumi hated herself for being so weak. The girl had already gone through so much trouble, and hurting Yachiyo wasn’t a part of her long-term plan. “And I’ll send you a copy of my key,” she almost grumbling her words as shoved more rice into her mouth. Fumi was adorable when she’s embarrassed. “You can come anytime you want, just… not by breaking my door.”

Yachiyo didn’t do any better because her face was just as pink as her hair, and Yachiyo almost dropped her chopsticks into the dish bowl because her hands were trembling for some obvious reasons.

“You’re lucky that Ichie-san’s not here, senpai,” Yuyuko commented as she slowly sipped on her tea. “She’d relish every second teasing you if she knows that you’re a romantic type.”

Fumi was in the middle of sipping her tea when Yuyuko said that, almost spitting on Meifan’s face when the liquid stuck on her throat at the seemingly harmless statement. Yuyuko could only hold a smirk as she watched Fumi hunching on the table with Yachiyo rubbing her back. Meifan hurriedly went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water.

“Thank you,” Fumi accepted the water and swallowed it in gulps, sending Yuyuko a glare that she usually reserved for Rinmeikan infamous prankster. “You really should stop hanging out with Ichie.”

“Nah. I think you’re just an easy target, Fumi-senpai,” Yuyuko replied with an easy shrug.

The dinner continued and Yuyuko chose to observe the other three. Fumi never told anyone her reason to abandon Siegfeld, and Yuyuko took the liberty to assume that it must be something personal until Fumi severed the ties to her former school. But as the conversation grew longer, Yuyuko realized that the awkwardness between Fumi and her former schoolmates was basically non-existent. Fumi could converse easily with Meifan and it’s also clear that Fumi loved Yachiyo dearly. Yuyuko wasn’t as nosy as Ichie and she would never ask, but the longer she observed Fumi, the more curious she became about Fumi’s past as a Siegfeld student.

“Fumi-san, we’re running out of oolong tea,” Meifan held the empty bottle in her hands. “Do you have some more?”

“Can you help me to buy some from the convenience store? It’s not far from here.”

Meifan nodded and was about to stand up from her seat when Yuyuko followed. “Actually, can I go too? I want to buy something” the girl shoved her hands into the pockets of her parka. Then, she turned her attention to Meifan. “You don’t mind, right?”

Meifan shook her head with a smile. “Well then, we’re off.”

Both girls walked out from Fumi’s room; their steps chorused against the corridor walls as silence befell them. The sky had turned dark but the summer heat was still lingering in the air. Yuyuko walked beside Meifan, breathing into the humid air, as her eyes wandered to the girl beside her.

Meifan was tall. She presented herself with confidence; her steps were relentless, which made her somewhat intimidating. Her eyes were bright and sharp; they bore some kind of determination that Yuyuko couldn’t exactly put her fingers on. And while Rui was fierce when she played Onikage, Meifan seemed to naturally embody that power on her own. Her shoulders were squared, unyielding; Meifan’s limbs were long, and maybe strong too because how else was she able to cross the oceans for reaching her dreams?

“Are you okay?”

Yuyuko blinked. “Hm?”

“You’ve been staring at me. Is there something you need?”

“I’m thinking of something else.”

In her head, she counted the steps she’s going to take to get to the convenience store. Then, the little space between her and Meifan, and how their hands were this close from touching.

“Your friend? Rui-san?”

Yuyuko rolled her eyes. It’s either Siegfeld had a special class on how to read people’s mind or Yuyuko was not as slick as she presented herself to be. Well, considering the circumstances, it could be both.

“She’s with Tamao-senpai,” she blurted. Or confessed. Her head was spinning. “Doing errands, but that’s probably an excuse.”

Meifan frowned. “So that’s why you’re coming with Fumi-san?”

“Surprise, right?” Yuyuko asked; her mouth flat as if she were trying to look unbothered. “I don’t usually get lonely easily, but human hearts are fragile.” Easing her hands into her park, Yuyuko walked a bit faster, her head was hanging. “So fragile, I can even taste the jealousy crawling up my throat as we speak.”

Yuyuko rarely disclosed her private matters, yet it only took her a little over two minutes to open up to Meifan. Yuyuko reminded herself (again) that they’re strangers; that maybe talking to Meifan about Rui was such a bad idea because somehow, in a twisted way, Yuyuko had begun to see Rui in Meifan—somewhat comparing them, and that didn’t sit well with her conscience.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Two lonely, jealous-ridden girls walking to the convenience store to buy oolong tea,” Yuyuko replied dryly. “This could make a good rakugo title.”

 “Well, it’s not like I’m going to accept everything and move on,” Meifan grumbled. “I’m this close from getting her for myself, only to see someone else snatched her away from my reach,” Meifan snorted. “Forgive the word, but I feel robbed.”

“Yukishiro-san?”

“Yes.”

“The contender?”

“Shiori.”

Somehow, Yuyuko wasn’t surprised. “And yet you’re having dinner at Fumi-senpai’s house. You certainly have issues.”

“I don’t!” Meifan protested, shaking her head in denial. “It’s just, Yachiyo asked me to come with her because… well, she knows I’m just going to make a mess of myself when I’m alone.”

Yuyuko tempted to laugh, but it’d make everything worse. She leaned closer to Meifan, close enough until their shoulders brushed. “I’m not a mess,” Yuyuko pointed. “But, maybe that’s what I think I am. I just wish that I can say more, you know—like confessing maybe? I don’t know.”

“The heartbreak is not worth the fight.”

Meifan wasn’t lying. The girl was looking like she’s struggling, and Yuyuko didn’t have any idea how to take that; Yuyuko could even hear the hurt Meifan was trying to disguise.

Yuyuko’s fingers twitched as she took a purposeful step to Meifan. Their fronts were almost touched, and Yuyuko had to inch her neck upward so she could see Meifan’s face as the girl pensively stared back at her. There were no neon lights, no drunk man singing in the background; there’s only this silence, and it felt like a reprieve for both of them. Even when she’s upset, Yuyuko found that Meifan was indeed beautiful.

“We’re going to laugh at ourselves ten years from now,” Yuyuko began. Her voice was slow, careful, as she drank every contour of Meifan’s sharp feature. “But no. We’re not adults, and we get hurt over something trivial like love. It’s stupid,” Yuyuko laughed, but it sounded strained. Something was disrupting her flow. “But you’re right. The heartbreak might not worth the effort.”

They continued looking at each other. Meifan looked like she’s ready to say another denial but words quickly dying on the edge of her lips when Yuyuko pressed her head on Meifan’s chest, a gesture of defeat, and Meifan couldn’t bring herself to take down someone so vulnerable. Yuyuko’s fingers were gripping the hem of her vest, tightly, and Meifan saw them trembling as if the girl was trying to keep everything from pouring out.

“Yu—“

“Call me Yukko,” the girl begged, helpless, and there’s something else. “Please.”

This wasn’t right. Meifan knew it’s not right, Yuyuko knew it’s not right, but they’re just a pair of lonely girls plunged into the world of competition and endless expectations. Everyone wanted them to become perfect; everyone wanted to have their brilliance. It’s tiring, it’s unfair, and both Meifan and Yuyuko were just as lost as everybody else.

“Yukko…”

Meifan barely breathed out. She covered Yuyuko’s hand with her own, slowly uncurling her fingers so she could entwine their hands and hold onto Yuyuko for some sort of clarity. Yuyuko’s skin was cold beneath Meifan’s fingertips, enough to quench the fever that Meifan had been enduring until this point.

“Yukko.”

Meifan called that name again and pulled Yuyuko to her, breathing slowly as she let herself melt into Yuyuko, and her mind wandered to the dorms of Siegfeld, thinking of that one person who’s already in someone else’s embrace.

It’s unfair.

But who could blame them?

Chapter Text

Shiori was thinking about Akira a lot; not Yukishiro-senpai, not Frau Platin, not even the student council of Siegfeld Institute of Music. Just Akira.

For several reasons, she often ended up observing Akira, wondering how can a person bear so many responsibilities yet still manage to outdone everyone’s expectations without straining herself.

But for Shiori, Akira was still a mystery.

Shiori sensed fear and anxiety from Akira the same way a rose bloomed beautifully with thorns to protect it from a stranger’s touch. Akira’s world was a stage; she wore a mask so people couldn’t see her, she built walls around her, and only let a handful of people to peek what’s hidden behind. The rose crown was the sigil of a king and Akira wore it with pride, even if she had to bleed alone.

Some people said that Akira was indomitable, or unapproachable, but all of them agreed that Akira was the most gorgeous, special thing that ever graced Siegfeld.

Akira was beautiful, powerful, but she’s also dangerous and cold. It wasn’t her height that made her imposing, but it’s how she brought herself in front of the people that earned her the respect from peers, teachers, and public eyes. And while the world only managed to look at the surface, Shiori had the privilege to see who Akira was: her insecurity, her doubts, her fears of committing mistakes, and the fact that Akira was the loneliest person Shiori had ever known.

Shiori wouldn’t say that Akira was the best lover. The jury’s still out there, but Shiori could say that Akira was putting a serious effort into learning something else other than perfecting her acting. She didn’t deny that Akira was awkward, trying a bit too hard even, but that’s what made Shiori fall for Akira in the first place.

She just finished brewing her morning tea and her room was filled with the rich odor of chamomile. She let the window open to let the early Monday morning breeze came inside, bringing another sweet scent from Siegfeld’s flower garden into her humble abode. From the corner of her eyes, she caught the birds chirping between the trees and her ears caught a faint of a roaring car from the main streets. Her pajamas were loose around the shoulders as Shiori stretched her arms up. The exam had finished although the school’s semester didn’t end until this Friday. And while Shiori didn’t have any particular plan in mind, she thought it’d feel nice if she could go somewhere to unwind before summer training started.

Someone was knocking on her door, and a smile automatically presented on Shiori’s lips. There’s a spring on her step as she turned away from the window to greet her guest. Once the door’s unlocked, Shiori’s greeting rolled off her lips in an excited gasp.

“Akira, hello.”

Akira had a pair of track pants and a black singlet top on. There’s a trace of sweat on her forehead and Akira’s cheeks were looking considerably flushed. In Akira’s hand, Shiori could see a paper bag that smelled suspiciously like baguettes and croissants.

“Good morning, Shiori.”

“Where have you been?”

“Jogging, and this is for you,” she said simply, pushing the bag to Shiori’s hands. “I know you like chiffon cake but the bakery doesn’t have any this early, so I bought these.” Her eyes flickered to anywhere but Shiori’s rather loose pajama. She cleared her throat and prepared to leave. “I hope you like it, because…” Akira cleared her throat, and Shiori had to hold her laugh at the sight of a fumbling Akira. “Just take this. And don’t forget that we have practice today, so don’t be late.”

Shiori held onto Akira’s wrist before the girl could go. Even though she’d told Akira that she’s going to take everything slow, Shiori also had this urge that made her want to indulge in Akira’s presence whenever she could. It was a complicated situation and Shiori was trying not to take too many chances. Her desire was complex, but Shiori didn’t want to break Akira more than she already had.

“Stay a bit longer, please,” Shiori begged, almost whispered. “I’ve made some tea, and… let’s have breakfast together.”

Akira’s skin underneath her fingertips was damp and hot. Her eyes flickered upward. For some obvious reasons, looking at Akira made her belly flush, a familiar heat curled on the back of her neck, but Shiori didn’t look away.

“Fine.” There’s no objection in Akira’s voice although Shiori couldn’t be too sure because Akira was a person of many layers. She pulled Akira inside; the door clicked behind them and Shiori could forget the existence of the world outside.

As Shiori poured tea for both of them, Akira watched without a word like she’s in the middle of rehearsing her lines. It would’ve been easier for both of them if Shiori could say something to make everything less tense between them. In the end, she decided that she liked the silence and having Akira’s full attention on her wasn’t entirely a bad thing either.

“Michiru-senpai will tell us about the summer play today, right?”

However, words weren’t entirely futile because Akira was looking considerably at ease when talking about their summer play. Akira was an actress first. Of course, talking about the play was the safest option for both of them.

“Yes,” Akira noted, long fingers curling around the cup. She looked rather relaxed after the first sip of her tea.

“Are you not curious about the story they’re going to write for us?”

Shiori sat on the chair in front of Akira. And while it’d be more convenient to sit a bit closer, Shiori always knew the barrier between them had not yet broken.

“I am, but there’s no need to think about it now.” Whether Akira was bluffing or bragging was something that Shiori could never understand. Akira took acting seriously and tiny inconvenience like this would never deter her. “I’m just going to do my thing as always. And of course, I’ll be counting on you too.”

Shiori looked down to contain her blush. “I should be the one saying that. There are so many things that I’m still lacking.”

“You’re improving a lot, Shiori,” Akira reminded her. The look on her face was stern but kind, and Shiori was mesmerized once again. “You’re working hard, and I see it with my own eyes that you’re growing in every play.”

Shiori shook her head. Her hands reached for the pot to pour some more tea to distract herself. “I’m still far behind. I’m still bad at fighting scenes. And my voice sometimes cracks when I sing the high note.”

Akira sighed. “And you think the others didn’t go through the same thing as you?”

“I always thought that Edels are special,” Shiori stated, eyes watching the dark liquid inside her cup with a despondent look. “You’re all shining bright, elusive, untouchable, something that I could only dream to be.” Then, she remembered about Fumi, feeling her heart twisting at the memories of the past and the promise that would never come true. “My sister. She’s the one who introduced me to the stage world. She took me to the theater on my birthday. I was only six years old, and we went just the two of us. It was a stage play of Beauty and the Beast.”

It was a fond memory. Regardless of everything that happened between Shiori and Fumi and how complicated their relationship now, Shiori always returned to that one particular memory to remind herself of easier, happier times. A smile curled on her lips. Her heart was getting lighter as her lips effortlessly streaming out stories.

“She bought me a cake that morning and sang me a happy birthday. Oneechan has always had a beautiful voice and I was really happy that she brought presents too. And just when I thought that I’ve had enough, she took me to the theater and I remembered that performance was so dazzling, blindingly beautiful. Both of us were enraptured.”

“I made a promise to her that we’re going to stand together on the stage one day. I was sickly when I was a child, and I couldn’t perform as much as I like. When she became a Frau Jade, it served as a motivation for me, that I must do better, get stronger, so we can perform together. Oneechan is a great stage girl. She sang beautifully, danced gracefully, everything I know I learned it from her. She’s someone that I aspire to be.”

Shiori was smiling again, but then a frown crept onto her face, swiftly erasing the fondness reminiscence into something somber and sad. “But she left… And I don’t know how to take that. Even though we’ve started talking again, I feel like the sister I once knew has become someone else.”

Shiori’s breath hitched when she felt Akira’s hand on her skin. Akira’s long fingers gently wrapped around Shiori’s dainty ones, thumb caressing on the knuckle in a silent reassurance that made Shiori want to believe that everything would be okay for them.

 “You’re the Frau Jade now, not Fumi. Everything that you have achieved until this point is because of yourself. You work against all odds, you prove yourself, and manage to surpass everyone’s expectation. You earned this position—this honor, to stand on the stage with the others and me. The stage is yours, everything is yours, and I…” Akira breathed, shaking her head a little. “I will be here for you, to help you, and you don’t have to feel alone anymore.”

Akira smiled. Not that smug, condescending smirk like she always had. It’s genuine, somewhat rare, and Shiori regretted that she forgot to charge her phone last night.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” The praise came out from Shiori’s mouth like a revelation, a testament of truth no one could ever deny. “I know you’ve been hearing this since forever, but I just want you to know that I admire you. You are something else and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get to your level.”

“Don’t flatter me too much,” Akira shook her head, pulling away from Shiori. A shrewd amusement flared in her eyes. “You, of all people, should know that there’s plenty of imperfections in me.”

Heat curled up Shiori’s neck. It felt hot and cold at the same time, and Shiori was working to keep the shiver away.

 “True,” Shiori admitted, and quickly took a sip of her tea. “And I don’t say this just to stroke your ego. I said it because I adore you,” the girl continued with a murmur. “I don’t care if you think I’m stupid. I adore you, Akira, both as a performer and—”

Words were halted when Akira pressed her fingers against Shiori’s lips, not too hard but enough to keep the girl from talking too much. The air had grown humid as the sun slowly got higher. And as the room started to get brighter, Shiori noticed the slight flush coloring Akira’s cheeks, and Shiori was struck with a realization that she’d made the mighty Yukishiro Akira blushing like a little girl.

“You’re right, I’ve heard compliments before. Countless of them, actually, and I always try not to think too much about it. Compliments are nice, but they can grow into sweet lies that will blind me from the truth,” Akira stated with a conflicted look between wanting to grin or scowl. “Michiru knows it too. She will compliment me every time I do a good job, but she won’t hold back if I suck at it too, that’s why I only value Michiru’s input because she’s always telling me the truth.”

“Everything I told you is not a lie,” Shiori told her, determination seeping into her voice because she knew no other way to convince Akira. “You’re imperfect, but that doesn’t stop me from adoring you—loving you, even.”

Akira looked at Shiori and, yes, Akira was indeed beautiful like this, with her sharp eyes, those finely curved lips, and her soft long hair. Everything that Akira rarely showed in public was all for Shiori to see, right in this fleeting moment, and Shiori’s body moved on its own again. Her fingers crept to Akira’s face as she pulled her close, eyes lingered on Akira’s.

“Shiori, we…”

“I know,” Shiori hushed, lips trembled close to Akira’s. “I understand that we should take it slow,” that sounded like a lie and Shiori suddenly tasted something bitter at the back of her tongue. “But I want to kiss you right now.”

“I don’t think—”

“The mistake will be mine, Akira,” Shiori cut in, almost pleading. The itch was getting worse. She was desperate for relief, one that only Akira could provide for her. “Please…”

Shiori didn’t fight as Akira held her by the chin, the distance between their faces was decreasing, and all Shiori could see was her reflection in Akira’s eyes. The breath that brushed against her mouth felt nice, prompting Shiori to close her eyes. The movement was slow; it’s torturing her, and Shiori was impatient. She pushed forward, closing the gap between them with a gasp, and kissed Akira to ease the inconsolable itch that’d been bothering her.

It’s thoughtless. Their teeth almost bumped to each other, and Shiori quickly pulled away before she could even feel the warmth that was Akira’s lips. Apologies were loaded on the tip of her tongue when Akira quickly snatched her back, sneaking her fingers on the back of Shiori’s skull, and pulled Shiori for another numbing kiss.

Akira’s mouth was on hers, gentle and soft, full with resolve and silent promises that Shiori didn’t dare to doubt or question. Everything was a blur until Shiori’s back met the carpet, a firm hand cushioning her head from the hard surface. Akira pulled away for a brief second to catch her breath before claiming Shiori’s lips again. Her senses were on fire as Shiori opened her mouth and clipped Akira’s lower lip with her teeth and dragged a groan from Akira’s throat. The kiss was too much, would never enough, and Shiori embraced Akira with everything she had. Akira’s chest pressed against hers, and Shiori’s breasts were bare under the thin material of her pajama. Shiori gasped again when Akira’s hand was on her stomach, caressing the skin in slow, intoxicating circles.

Akira pulled away with a bruised lip and hazy eyes. Their breaths mingled in slow, heavy puffs. Shiori felt hot; the temperature felt like it’s trying to boil her from inside. She watched Akira’s face carefully and felt her heart cracked a bit when she caught the same uncertainty still haunting Akira’s beautiful face.

“I’m sorry,” Shiori croaked, breathless. “I got carried away. I just…”

Akira gave a tiny smile, almost invisible with how little she moved her lips. “It’s okay,” she muttered and pressed a quick peck on the corner of Shiori’s lips. “The mistakes are not entirely yours. I have a part in it too.”

Shiori smiled. She had Akira’s face in her hands and continued to stare at Akira as if there’s nothing else worth looking in this world.

“How much time we have left?” Shiori asked. The glee in her voice was unmistakable.

“Five minutes.”

“Can we…?”

Akira narrowed her eyes, grinning like a wolf finding her prey.

“Sure.”

Their mistakes were starting to mount, and both of them were too drunk on each other to care.

*

Mei Fan couldn’t decide what she’s feeling when she saw the exam results.

She ranked 6^th. Yachiyo took the first spot. Rank second and third were some other students that Mei Fan only knew by name. The students surrounded her, hushing in some words that Mei Fan didn’t bother to comprehend. It’s irritating that everyone seemed to make a fuss over something like this. It’s just a test; fluctuated grade was normal under certain circumstances. Mei Fan was irritated. She wanted people around her to stop talking.

“That’s shocking.” Mei Fan heard Michiru’s voice. The taller girl didn’t need to look; it was a common knowledge that Michiru often popped unprompted. Maybe her small figure helped her moving undetected too. “I remember that you ranked first on the mid-semester exam,” Michiru said again, “and I’m also sure that you’re going to snatch the first place this time.”

Mei Fan met Michiru’s gaze, and she felt like she’s being judged from head to toe. She shrugged, trying to grasp at the piling excuses. “Everyone can get the first place, and I saw that Yachiyo worked extra hard for this exam. She deserved it.”

“And how about the others who surpassed you?”

Her chest tightened, and Mei Fan understood exactly why she’s feeling like this. She gave everything she had to enter Siegfeld, clocked the highest score in the entrance exam, and managed to secure her place in Siegfeld’s scholarship program, which was notoriously difficult to get by. Her gaze landed on the announcement board again, feeling shame bubbling up inside her.

“They… deserved it too,” she answered through gritted teeth.

Mei Fan was competitive, and seeing her name on the 6^th place was an insult to her overbearing pride. She didn’t mind that Yachiyo managed to surpass her, but the other students… god, it felt like someone stabbed her and pulled her guts out. Mei Fan even almost wished for the giraffe to call for the audition so she could beat someone’s ass without feeling remorse.

“You look bothered by it.”

Mei Fan was quick to conjure up another denial, but Michiru wasn’t smiling. Her tiny upperclassman was serious and Mei Fan didn’t want to ire the older girl by making up lies.

“Let’s say I’m bothered, and what are you going to do?” Mei Fan countered. She waited for Michiru, half-wishing the girl would scold her for unable to live up to Edel’s expectation. “I missed the mark, but it doesn’t invalidate the fact that I worked hard too, maybe harder than anyone.”

“I never doubt you, Mei Fan,” Michiru stated with a nod. “But it’s also pretty clear that you’re distracted.” The shorter girl studied Mei Fan for a while before concluding, “It’s about Akira and Shiori, I presume?”

“They have nothing to do with this!” Mei Fan’s voice cracked. It piqued everyone’s interest and Mei Fan hated that too. “What’s this? Are you going to scold me for having a bad grade? You’re not my mother!”

Michiru looked at her in sympathy. Her gaze softened as she took Mei Fan’s hand and dragged her away from the center of this unwanted attention. Mei Fan didn’t protest. Her steps were rather sluggish as she followed Michiru. The shrill of cicadas and the humidity of summer air greeted once they’re out of the building. Michiru kept dragging Mei Fan and stopped under the gazebo by the flower garden.

“It’s hot,” Mei Fan growled. The sudden change in temperature made her feel tired. “Why are you taking me here?”

“To talk. Privately,” Michiru stated, crossing her arms. “I’m not your mother, but I’m still your senpai and I will try to help you in any way I can.”

Mei Fan gave Michiru a look. The fact that she’d fallen this low was disheartening and Mei Fan started to wonder that maybe she’s not as tough as she presented herself to be. “And what kind of advice you’re going to give me? Study harder? Find someone else to indulge my desire?”

Michiru laughed, and that’s a different reaction from Mei Fan had in mind. She laughed so hard until her voice echoed through the garden. “That’s a bold statement, but no. You’re a smart girl. You’re also beautiful, talented, and I’m sure that you’re going to find someone else to find the…” Michiru made a quote with her fingers, “’ indulgence’ as you eloquently say.”

Mei Fan pouted. Her cheeks were slightly red at the comment. “It’s not easy to find someone who gives me the same feeling as Akira-san,” the girl admitted. Her voice was slightly low as she pointed her look to the rose bush outside of the gazebo. “She’s an inspiration. She’s not only making me feel like I don’t want to lose to her, but I also don’t want to lose her to anyone else too.” Mei Fan breathed deeply, fingers curling to a ball. “And I’m sorry to say this, but I only feel this way towards Akira-san. Even when I understand the extent of your abilities, I can’t bring myself to…”

“I get it,” Michiru waved Mei Fan off. “You’re not supposed to anyway. You joined the student council because of Akira, not because of me, Yachiyo, or even Fumi when she’s still around.”

Mei Fan swallowed. She felt exposed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Naturally, you feel like that. Akira’s supposed to invoke that kind of feeling to everyone. Her talent is abundant and a convenient approach will not do justice to her, so that’s why she chose Siegfeld to show the world what she’s made of.”

“And that’s also a reason why she became an Edel too?”

Michiru nodded.

“Edel system has been here since the beginning of Siegfeld. As you may know, the title only was given to special students, and I’m not talking about those who enter this school through connection or because their parents have money growing in their backyard. You, Yachiyo, Shiori, Akira, and I are Edels because we have the capabilities to continue the legacy of the previous ones. And we must give everything we have to ensure that Siegfeld and its values will continue to become the foundation for the next generation. Elysion is the testament of that value. Akira knows this. I know this. That’s why we’re not playing around when we recruited the members.”

“I know,” Mei Fan agreed. “I have my reason to become an Edel too, but sometimes I wonder if that reason is going to be enough.”  Mei Fan’s face was slightly looking bothered as she continued. “I was confused when Fumi-san left. She had everything, she was shining so bright, but why…?”

Michiru gnawed her lower lip before continuing. The sunlight caught on her hair, and it shone in brilliant gold. Michiru was shorter but Mei Fan felt that she’s the smaller one between them.

“Edel system is not perfect. It’s strict; it’s more like a tool to create a glorified rivalry between students, and that’s probably one of many reasons that caused Fumi left us.”

“I thought maybe us four would be enough to perform our duty, but then Akira-san announced that she’s going to recruit a replacement.”

“Your point?”

Mei Fan didn’t care if it’s going to sound childish. She’d been keeping this to herself for God knows how long. If Michiru wanted to know everything, Mei Fan’s not going to hold back.

“If Fumi-san didn’t leave, everything would’ve stayed the same,” Mei Fan told Michiru, sounding almost like she’s loathing herself for saying this too. “And Shiori will…”

Michiru clicked her tongue and shook her head, pointedly disagreeing with Mei Fan. “When you say that you hate Fumi for leaving, it won’t change anything. What’s gone is gone, and there’s nothing we can do about it. The most important right now is I don’t want to see any conflict between us,” she concluded. “Akira openly hated Fumi for leaving, saying that she’s too weak to bear the burden of an Edel, but I think that’s not the only case. As I said, the Edel system is just a glorified tool of rivalry. I won’t blame her if she’s uncomfortable with all the pressure,” she continued with a slight nod. “That’s why I’m trying to create a friendlier and more elaborate environment so we can work as a team. And that seems to work well. We get a new member. Everyone seems to enjoy working on the student council and we need this kind of synergy, especially when our goal is to give our best performance in Elysion.”

“Don’t worry about Elysion. I’m ready to play my part.”

“Don’t speak about Elysion when you’re still like this, Mei Fan.” Michiru’s eyes were narrowing. “Look, I don’t doubt your ability. But what I see right now is someone who’s too distracted and mess everything up.”

Mei Fan looked away. She had nothing to say because she knew Michiru was right. Again.

“You and Yachiyo are supposed to be on top of your class, but you didn’t even get into the top 5,” she pointed out and Mei Fan looked like she’s ready to dig a hole and bury herself alive in it. “Whatever things that happened between Akira and Shiori are affecting you, and they haven’t even made it official yet.”

“I will get better on the 2^nd semester!” Mei Fan almost snapped. “I’m not that stupid to let my scholarship revoked.”

Michiru narrowed her eyes, seemingly unsure at Mei Fan’s emotional rebuttal. A long beat passed between them until Michiru pinched the area between her eyebrows and another exhausted sigh rolled out her lips. The dark circles under her eyes were thinly covered by a light make-up. “I take your words for that.”

“You should,” Mei Fan muttered.

“Now, tell me,” Michiru quickly changed the subject. “Are you still hurting?”

Mei Fan looked down. “Sometimes,” she couldn’t lie about this. A sigh escaped from her lips. “I mean, I’m trying to keep my emotions in check. I try not to feel jealous every time I see Akira-san and Shiori together.”

“But?”

Mei Fan bit her lower lip. It’s trembling, and Mei Fan wasn’t going to hedge her gambit by appearing weak in front of Michiru. “It’s just so unfair, you know,” she almost choked on her words. “She told me that she wanted to know what she’s feeling. She kissed me, but then she said that I deserved better than loving someone like her! I mean…!” Her brows pinched in anger as Mei Fan took a sharp breath between her teeth. “Like, how could she!? She knows my feelings for her. Did she seriously dismissing me like that is a good idea!? And for what? To discourage me so she could be with a girl who’s a replacement for her runaway sister!?”

Michiru’s face was unreadable, and Mei Fan felt more miserable than before. The air was too hot; it’s not good for her body because heat always made her unable to think. There’s a pang in her chest as Mei Fan wondered that, maybe, she had shot herself on the foot for being such an idiot.

“Akira is stupid, I have to admit,” Michiru stated with a resigned tone. She sat on the chair next to Mei Fan, slowly leaning back to get comfortable. “She has difficulty expressing her feelings, and she’s clueless in human relationships. And I agree that she’s unfair to you. I mean,” Michiru scoffed as she stared at the ceiling, “she told me that she didn’t know what to do. She even had the gall to say that she felt nothing for you or Shiori, and look at where she is now.”

“Hypocrite,” Mei Fan concluded. Her mouth went unfiltered, and Michiru’s reply was a sardonic laugh.

“She is, but not without a reason,” the Frau Sapphire agreed. “Akira has issues. I’m not going to say it to you what is, but you have to understand that Akira has a lot in her mind. She has goals and expectations to fill. Her life revolves around the stage and the roles she must play. She rarely had time to think about herself, so when you and Shiori came to her world, offering her something that she’s never experienced before, she got confused,” Michiru made a motion with her hands. “You can’t entirely blame her for freaking out.”

“I understand,” Mei Fan replied, almost growling, and something bitter was growing on her throat. She took a few deep breaths to keep calm. “What Akira-san sees in Shiori, I will never know.”

Michiru shook her head. “Don’t say that,” she warned. “Hating on Shiori will not make Akira magically love you back.”

Mei Fan turned her head an inch, just to glare at Michiru’s face as the older girl gave her another unreadable look, seemingly challenging Mei Fan for another round of debate. The taller girl looked away. “I’m sorry. Please excuse me,” Mei Fan bowed.

“Don’t forget to come to the practice room today,” Michiru called before Mei Fan could get any further. “We’re going to—”

“The summer festival, I know,” Mei Fan cut in before Michiru could finish. Mei Fan would’ve never dared to do this under normal circumstances, but her mood was sour and she didn’t want to spend a second under Michiru’s scrutiny. “I won’t run away. See you later, Michiru-san.”

The gaze that lingered on the back of her head felt like burning. Mei Fan knew she’d been a mess, but she didn’t think that she had to fall so low like this. Every reasoning, every self-restraint, and every rule that she made for herself seemed to evaporate, leaving her with nothing but jealousy and anger that slowly consumed her from the inside.

Mei Fan felt stupid. Mei Fan felt a lot of stupid things, and it’s only a matter of time until she got burned into ashes.

*

Nakamura and Sugita, the girls from class B who was in charge of writing the script, was overseeing this practice session. The practice had been going on for almost two hours and it went smoothly thanks to everyone’s full commitment to make this practice as perfect as possible.

The tension was palpable in the practice room.

From where she’s sitting, Yachiyo could see the obvious tension between Akira, Mei Fan, and Shiori. Akira was faring better than the two because she’s still able to maintain a cool disposition throughout the practice while Mei Fan and Shiori seemed like they’re just one fuse away from exploding. Michiru, as expected, decided to have an open session today, allowing other students to come and watch the Edels practicing. It wasn’t Yachiyo’s place to ask, but she had an idea of how cunning Siegfeld’s Frau Sapphir was. Yachiyo knew better and preferred to follow the routine as usual.

The practice went without a hitch. Mei Fan might have unfinished beef with Akira and Shiori, but she didn’t let it hinder her performance. Shiori, despite her minor mistakes, was improving and she was able to catch up with Akira and Mei Fan.

And Akira.

How did she even begin to explain about Yukishiro Akira?

Akira seemed different… exuberant, passionate. It’s like she’s putting more ‘oomph’ to her already perfect performance. Her expression as she incited her lines, the pain, and sadness that she was able to evoke through the flick of her eyes, and the anguish in her voice that chorused against the walls of the practice room. Akira placed her emotions in all the right places; one minute she put up an act of arrogant merchant, a minute after that the arrogance was gone, easily replaced with a broken shell of a man who’d lost everything.

It was only the first day, but Yachiyo felt like Akira was more than ready to play it on stage. When she looked around, she saw some students were already wiping tears off their faces. Akira had always been a superb performer but this one was different. Yachiyo rarely let emotions get the best of her, especially when the practice was still ongoing, but the lump on her throat and the sharp stings behind her eyes began to annoy her as she observed Akira’s acting.

No wonder Siegfeld’s committee considered Akira as their precious golden child.

Yachiyo unscrewed the bottle cap and watched Akira talking to Nakamura. Akira was a perfectionist and Nakamura wanted nothing but a spectacular play, so it’s no wonder they had so many things to discuss. Mei Fan was with Shiori and Yachiyo almost cringed at how tense those two around each other.

Mei Fan might be able to fool other students with how she presented herself, but Yachiyo knew better because that smile on Mei Fan’s face was painful and the girl looked like she had shackles around her wrists and ankles that prevented her from moving freely.

“Looking at something interesting, Yachiyo?”

The girl glanced at her side before turning her attention back to Mei Fan and Shiori. “Is this one of your plans, Michiru-senpai?”

“What plan?”

“Having an open practice,” Yachiyo concluded. She observed around her and saw a bunch of girls was not-so-secretly taking Akira’s pictures in glee and, just as she predicted, Mei Fan and Shiori shared the same look of displeasure on their faces. “To make things less awkward between them?”

Michiru laughed softly. She tapped her script against her thigh, leaning against the wall, as her eyes landed on Akira. “I just want us to be productive for a change.”

“Working on the student council is productive enough if you ask me,” Yachiyo deadpanned. “Maybe too productive,” she continued under her breath. She took another swig of the water. “And you said you didn’t give a damn about teenage drama.”

Michiru gave Yachiyo a look. “What do you take me for? An evil overseer?” Yachiyo almost answered yes but she was a smart girl and knew when to keep her mouth shut. The younger girl offered a shrug and waited for Michiru’s explanation. “I don’t mind with that, frankly. I mean, we’re teenagers and while our hands are full of our duties, it doesn’t mean we’re not dealing with problems like other girls around our age.”

“Obviously, ordinary teenagers don’t have to deal with a talking giraffe and underground duel,” Yachiyo added, sucking at her lower lip. She remembered her battle against Fumi. The scar was no more, but she still had nightmares about it once in a while. “But seeing those three in a complicated love triangle is better than having them fighting against each other.”

Michiru hummed in agreement. “Yeah. I’m also glad that there’s no call for an audition. I mean, we already have a lot in our hands, so…” she shrugged. The shorter girl let out a sigh before continuing. “Congrats for getting the first place, Yachiyo.”

Yachiyo was a sucker for praise. She puffed her chest, forming a smug smile on her lips. “I worked hard for that one.”

“Did Fumi get something for you? Like a ‘good job’ present or something?”

Michiru’s voice sounded like she’s genuinely curious too. Yachiyo didn’t put it past Michiru to keeping tabs on everyone.

“No, but we’re going out this weekend,” Yachiyo answered, bashfully, as she tucked her hair behind the ear. “Nothing fancy. Just checking around stores in Ginza and having lunch together.”

Michiru chuckled. “She really loves you. Lunch in Ginza is pretty expensive.”

Michiru didn’t mean it bad, but it’s still weird to be on the receiving end of a tease. “Anyway,” Yachiyo cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks warming up. “I’m just glad that Akira-senpai won’t scold me for not working hard enough.”

“Don’t worry about Akira,” Michiru’s eyes landed on Mei Fan, who’s now reading her script and mouthing her lines. “Mei Fan on the other hand…”

“Mei Fan tried her best,” Yachiyo quickly added. Mei Fan wouldn’t like this, but Yachiyo felt like she had to tell Michiru. “She got the sixth place not because she’s slacking off. I saw her studying every night.”

“I think so too, Yachiyo,” Michiru agreed, keeping her smile intact. There’s something mysterious about it too that even the crafty Yachiyo couldn’t decide the intention behind it. “Mei Fan never disappoints. That acting just now? I can feel her anger in it, her frustration, and when she looked at Akira, I get a bit wary that Mei Fan will get physical to her.”

“Oh, she will get physical. One way or another,” Yachiyo scoffed. Mei Fan was pointing at the script, seemingly explaining something with Shiori keenly listening to her.

“Seems like you’re looking forward to it.”

Yachiyo frowned. “I’m not,” she answered, honestly too. There’s a crack as her fingers gripped on the water bottle rather tightly. “Mei Fan can be rather intense when she feels something. She’s like fire, you know. She burns so bright, so passionate, she doesn’t realize that she also burns herself.”

Michiru pursed her lips. Her smile faltered for a brief moment. Her eyes followed Akira as the girl walked to Mei Fan and Shiori. The two girls immediately perked up and all Michiru could see were two mistresses trying to win the affection of the king. It was like a scene from a comedy but Michiru wasn’t laughing.  She quietly chewed on her lip, eyes never leaving Akira like a hawk to its prey.

“Are you thinking about separating Akira-san and Shiori?” Michiru swore under her breath. Did Yachiyo just read her mind?

“I’m not as terrible as you think I am, Yachiyo,” Michiru replied. The side of her head was starting to pound. “Just because I think Akira’s relationship with Shiori is inconvenient, it doesn’t mean I’ll tell Akira to break up with her,” she explained with a rather heavy tone.

“You better or you’re going to deal with me if that ever happens.”

A knowing smirk made a return to Michiru’s lips. “Because Fumi asks you to take care of Shiori?”

“It’s because I don’t want to see anyone leaving,” Yachiyo replied.

The color of her eyes sharpened. The usual lilt in her voice was gone and, for once, Yachiyo didn’t seem like she’s joking either. “I don’t care about Akira-senpai, but Shiori doesn’t need to lose someone she loves. Again. And Mei Fan is not going to be happy if she knows what you’re about to do, Michiru-senpai.”

They shared a look. Yachiyo wasn’t going to let this one slide even it’d mean that she’s going to fight Michiru. The shorter girl, however, was looking unfazed but there’s a sharp glint in her eyes that almost made Yachiyo shiver a little. Her little investigation had yielded some useful information regarding the Edels and Siegfeld as a whole. Michiru was someone that Yachiyo would never win against, but if the situation called, Yachiyo wouldn’t think twice to challenge Michiru.

Especially if the situation was involving people she cared for.

Michiru scoffed and shook her head. “Why so serious, Yachiyo? Relax. I’m not going to do anything” she said while tapping Yachiyo’s arm.

Yachiyo stared at Michiru dubiously, but she’s going to accept Michiru’s statement at face value. Fumi’s departure had caused headaches for everyone involved, and she hoped Michiru was sensible enough to not take the risk and having a vacant position in the student council.

“Fine,” Yachiyo agreed even when doubts still lingered behind her head. “Let’s not escalate this conversation further, yeah? We’re supposed to act mature compared to those children.”

Fortunately for Yachiyo, Michiru found the jab pretty funny because the girl was laughing again. “You’re right. Good thing that we’re the only one who knows how messy Akira is when she’s not in her Edel mode, huh?”

“Mm,” Yachiyo nodded. A manly groan escaped her throat as she stretched her arms up, the knots on her shoulders popped most comfortably. Michiru had made her point and Yachiyo wanted to believe her for it. “Let’s practice our lines for a bit before Akira-senpai gets suspicious that we’re gossiping about her.”

“Isn’t that the truth though?” Michiru flicked her eyes to Yachiyo with an amused grin.

“Yeah, but it’s better to keep it a secret,” Yachiyo replied. She opened her script, preparing to immerse herself in the role. “It’s more fun that way.”

Chapter Text

No matter how many times she’d experienced it, after practice was always the worst.

Akira was standing by the kitchen counter, watching the kettle with little interest. Her throat was hurt, the muscles on her legs felt like on fire, and Akira was seriously considering a proposal to provide a massage parlor for students. But Michiru’s going to scold her for that and Akira would receive a lot of complaints from concerned parents regarding that additional facility in Siegfeld.

The summer play practice had gone for a week. It went rather smoothly for everyone regardless of the bumps and hiccups they faced. Nakamura had tweaked some of the scenes under Akira’s input. Yachiyo had the honor to work on the costume (again) with Michiru supervising. Yachiyo was a great actress, but her talent was significantly brighter in costume design and Akira didn’t expect less from her.

Yachiyo had magic hands. She was able to visualize what kind of dresses, suits, even accessories that complimented the storyline. The dresses she made for the Beauty and the Beast had made its way to the local fashion magazine. Akira also noticed that the girl had received a lot of calls from some well-known designers in town, asking her to collaborate for their latest project. The girl was flattered although she hadn’t said yes to any of them. ‘I still want to have fun with you guys,’ she said that with a smug grin when Michiru asked about the collaboration deal.

Shiori’s playing the role of a poor and dishonored daughter from a long-forgotten noble family, one who’d lost everything but still retained her dignity even after she became a prisoner to a greedy merchant. Her character was a girl whose gentleness belied the iron will of a noble, whose determination was so strong she wouldn’t let anyone dictate her life. A girl who just wanted to live with her family in peace but the circumstances didn’t allow her to have that kind of luxury. Shiori brought tears and joy into the character. The loneliness and sadness that she portrayed were so palpable until Akira had to remind herself that everything was just acting, that Shiori was just that good of a stage girl.

Honestly, Akira couldn’t be prouder to see how long Shiori had come.

Then there’s Mei Fan.

Regardless of her shortcomings, Mei Fan was truly a great actress. She’s trained in dancing and singing, she could emote her feelings perfectly, she’s also really good at martial arts and helped a lot in the play’s choreography. Something had been bugging Akira when she saw Mei Fan’s performance. Usually, Mei Fan treated her role like a holy scripture and she always acted on it with some sort of honor and dignity. This time, however, Mei Fan was reckless.

Not in a bad way per se, but it’s still different. In this play, Mei Fan was playing as Akira’s rival. Their characters often clashed and while Akira’s role was calm and cunning, Mei Fan’s was loud and angry. There’s raw emotion in there. Something close like anger, disappointment, and sheer pain. It’s supposed to portray what the character was feeling but Akira knew that it’s Mei Fan was opening her heart for everyone to see.

Your life will be mine one day.

Mine. Mine. Mei Fan said it loudly, like an oath, in front of everyone including Shiori, and Akira didn’t know if this was her character speaking or Mei Fan’s true wish. Those eyes were like teeth sinking into Akira’s skin, leaving a wound that’s bloodless but still painful all the same.

A loud whistle broke her daydream and Akira quietly turned the stove off. She’s preparing a concoction of herbal drink. She got it from Michiru, who got it from Frontier’s resident health freak Kocho Shizuha. The taste was as foul as sin, almost made Akira gag the first time she drank it, but it worked well to ease the sore and exhaustion after practice. She poured the boiling water to the concoction, wrinkling her nose when the sharp stench of herbs began to fill the air.

“Are you going to drink that?”

Akira spared a glance at the girl before returning her attention to the drink. “Yes. It helps to ease sore muscles.”

Mei Fan was looking normal, or Akira would assume that Mei Fan was doing well. Her hair was looking wet as she stepped into the kitchen, wearing loose shirts and shorts. Akira quietly observed Mei Fan from the corner of her eyes.

“What are you looking for?”

“Pudding,” Mei Fan replied curtly without diverting her attention from her task.

They went quiet again, making Akira almost wanted to run her hand over her face if she’s not holding the herbal drink at the moment. In theory, Akira should’ve apologized to Mei Fan, shook Mei Fan’s hands, and continued their routine as usual.

The scenario of confronting Mei Fan was easier in her head, frankly.

“You did well,” Akira began. It wasn’t a great starter for a conversation but Akira understood she had to start somewhere. “I’m impressed with your acting, Mei Fan.”

“It’s a given right? Considering I’m planning to surpass you,” Mei Fan said, her mouth flat as if she’s trying to be a condescending ass.

“Right,” Akira muttered, winced. She understood where this hostility came from. “Mei Fan,” Akira tried again. The girl replied with a soft hum and Akira took it as a cue to continue. “Are you feeling okay?”

Mei Fan stopped moving for a brief second before she quickly recomposed herself. Mei Fan’s expression was neutral when she turned to Akira.

“No. Not really,” and Mei Fan seemed to understand that there’s no point in dancing around the topic. The fridge door closed with a soft ‘pat’ as Mei Fan pulled back, leaning to the counter while staring at the ceiling. “But I’m trying to keep my head on the game.”

“You scored sixth place,” Akira pointed, feeling somewhat disappointed. Not at Mei Fan, of course, because Akira understood why Mei Fan’s grade was falling. “Not that I blame you. I admit that the finals were rough for all of us.”

Mei Fan scoffed. “Weird that you have to say such an excuse. You have no problem getting the first place, Akira-san.”

“It’s not about me. It’s you,” Akira insisted. She blew on the herbal drink once before taking a sip. Cursing under her breath when the bitter liquid went down her throat. “I should’ve helped you,” she added. Her fingers tapping against the rim of her glass, idly observing the dark green color on the tip of her finger. “I mean, we could’ve practiced together. And I could’ve helped with your study,” Akira continued. Her voice was soft, almost sounding like regret. It felt a little strange.

“You don’t need to feel responsible. I own that failure.”

Yes, I’m responsible for it, Akira told herself inwardly. “But, at the very least, I should’ve done something to help you—”

“Is this how you cheer people up?”

“Consider me as trying, Mei Fan.”

 A laugh. Mei Fan shook her head. “And you did a terrible job at it.”

“You’re laughing.”

“Because you’re the worst.” There’s a sound of nails tapping against the granite surface. Akira waited as she observed Mei Fan closely. The girl was still smiling; it looked rather strained and there’s the sharp intensity in her eyes that reminded Akira of the time when Mei Fan tearfully walked out from her that morning after they kissed. “You’re just selfishly assuming that I’m going to be happy when you decide to talk to me.”

Akira felt caught. There’s no rational way to prepare herself. Her body reacted immediately: her shoulders squared, her eyes opened wide, and the sore in her muscles seemed to evaporate almost too quickly.

“I feel like we need to talk,” Akira reasoned awkwardly. Her voice sounded pathetic in her ears.

“We’re talking now,” Mei Fan deadpanned.

“But not like this,” Akira frowned. Mei Fan was looking like she’s ready to fight. “I know we’re still having issues to talk about.”

Mei Fan’s fingers twitched on the counter as she met Akira’s gaze, frowning as she contemplated her choice. The following minute was just another silence. They’re sort of staring at each other, maybe with questions, maybe with other thousand different feelings that brought them to this point.

“What kind of issues?” Mei Fan asked back. She rubbed her eyes. “I’m trying to forget about it. My grade’s falling is entirely my fault. You don’t have to concern yourself over it. Considering.”

Akira blinked. “Considering?”

“You’ve decided,” Mei Fan said. Not cryptically, but Akira felt like it was.

Akira gulped down her herbal drink and looked away. She could hear the voices from upstairs, some American pop music from someone’s room down the hallway, and she wondered if there’s some easy way out from this situation.

“My feelings for you haven’t changed, you know?”

Akira blinked, startled. “What?”

“I still can’t stop thinking about you,” Mei Fan approached Akira. She raised her hand to touch Akira only to stop half-way as if she realized that she didn’t want to commit another mistake. “I’m still hoping maybe you’re going to change your mind, selfishly thinking that I’m going to have a chance, and you know what? I hate myself for even having that thought.”

Akira looked down. “So, that’s why you’re looking very angry when we’re practicing.”

“I’m just acting,” Mei Fan paused and sighed. “Though I can’t be too sure if I’m still playing the role or not,” she added. “There’s no way we’d be able to return to how it was. Sure, you can easily move on now that you’ve someone but where does that leave me, I wonder?”

“And what should I do?” Akira asked back.

The concern in her voice was sweet and genuine, She felt helpless, and Akira hated it. Everything seemed to be falling apart no matter how hard she’s trying to keep it together. Her mind had become a vortex of noises. There’s Yachiyo’s voice, Michiru’s, Shiori’s—everyone was talking at the same time, muttering some incorrigible things that began to manifest into chains coiling around Akira’s chest.

Mei Fan chuckled, obviously trying to disguise the pain she’s currently feeling. “You’re not making any sense.”

But Akira was trying to make everything right because she reached out to Mei Fan, her fingers were curling on the back of Mei Fan’s neck so she was able to look at Mei Fan’s face. And, yes, it’s there, Akira could see it clearly in those eyes, the vulnerability that Mei Fan was trying to hide.

“Tell me what I should do, Mei Fan,” Akira prompted again, almost desperate.

Mei Fan held onto Akira’s wrists as she pulled back. Her hands dropped in a gesture of finality. “Nothing,” she shook her head, resigning. “Don’t do anything because…” her shoulders dropped as she sighed in frustration. “I’ll be fine. Just give me some time.”

The usual brilliance in Mei Fan’s eyes was dimmed, looking far away, and Akira was feeling guilty again, knowing that she should’ve done something but she’s too much of a coward to even make a single step. She did nothing as she watched Mei Fan walk away.

So much for having a meaningful conversation.

*

Yuyuko was in no way a morning person.

But she woke up earlier that day, scratching her head while holding a yawn. The floor was cold when she stepped out of her bed. Her eyes landed on Rui. The girl was still sleeping. She’s hugging on her pillow with a dopey smile plastered on her face. Yuyuko rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to know what kind of dream the girl was currently having.

She gingerly stepped into the kitchen, intending to serve herself a cup of tea, when she saw a familiar girl with violet hair standing by the counter.

“Good morning, Yuyuko-chan,” Tamao greeted with a smile. Her voice was gentle like a lullaby and Yuyuko found herself yawning again. “I just brewed some tea. Would you like a cup?”

Yuyuko opened one eye, quietly drinking the sight of the beautiful senior before her. Tamao had her hair pulled in a ponytail, the usual ribbons she often wore were absent. The ponytail looked good on her; it made her profile sharper and accentuated the slim line of her neck. Sunlight was peeking from behind the window, creating a translucent halo around Tamao. What’s missing was a pair of wings, and Yuyuko knew a certain someone willing to traverse through the universe to get one.

 “The smell is… different,” Yuyuko commented as she approached Tamao.

“I got this from Fumi,” the older girl replied as she poured the tea into the cup. “She said this is a rare blend and suggested that I should try it.”

“Fumi-senpai has an expensive taste,” Yuyuko commented, feeling her morning grogginess dissipated the longer she breathed in the delightful aroma. “I just hope she’s not wasting her paycheck to get this one.”

Tamao laughed, and the sound was beautiful. Like a songbird. Yuyuko couldn’t help but smile back.

“Well, let’s hope that Fumi carefully budgets her living expense.” She handed Yuyuko the cup, still with that amazing smile. “Here you go.”

The first sip made Yuyuko aware of her surroundings. By two sips Yuyuko felt warmth returning to her in slow waves as her vision started to focus on Tamao. She blinked once, twice, as a lazy smirk made its way to her lips.

“Morning, Tamao-senpai.”

Tamao gave Yuyuko a soft pat on the head. “Are you awake now?”

“Wide,” she purred her answer, taking another sip.

“Do you have any plan to go somewhere? Summer vacation starts today,” Tamao asked as she walked to the fridge to get some eggs for breakfast.

“Nowhere in particular,” Yuyuko replied. After putting the cup down, she took a pan from the cabinet and some cooking utensils. The least she could do was helping Tamao preparing breakfast. Yuyuko knew her manners. “Asakusa maybe? I heard the theater’s showing a new play.”

Tamao hummed as she cracked the eggs, sprinkled some salt and pepper, and beat them nicely. “Are you going alone?” she asked while watching Yuyuko as the girl turned the stove on.

“Who do you think I should bring?”

Tamao replied with a hearty chuckle. “You can ask Rui-chan to come with you.”

Yuyuko glanced at Tamao, briefly wondering to herself if Tamao was trying to bait some reaction. “Rui… would fall asleep halfway. Then again, she already has a plan to take you to a new donut shop today.”

“Really?” Tamao asked, curious enough, but her focus was still on the pan as she carefully flipped the egg. “Sorry, Yuyuko-chan, but can you check on the soup? It should be done now.”

The steam was hot against Yuyuko’s face as she served the miso soup into four small bowls. Her stomach was quietly grumbling, and Yuyuko was amazed at how a simple dish like this could make her miss home and her mother’s cooking.

“Where do you think Rui-chan will take me? I believe she already showed me all the donut shops in town.”

Yuyuko picked the ladle and stirred on the broth. “It doesn’t matter where I think. As long as Rui’s happy.” Yuyuko almost groaned. Telling that to the girlfriend of your crush was not a good move. “Don’t tell Rui that I told you about this,” Yuyuko quickly added as she cleared her throat. “Just pretend to be shocked when she asked you.”

Their conversation stopped after that. Yuyuko offered to make a salad, which Tamao kindly accepted. She chopped a carrot meticulously, tossed it into a bowl and moved on to a tomato. Yuyuko always loved her salad and she’s going to add lots of tomatoes just because she liked it. Her mood was getting better as she started humming some songs.

“I’m sorry,” Tamao suddenly blurted out.

“What for?”

“Fumi told me that you’ve been feeling a bit lonely these days,” Tamao said, peering apologetically at Yuyuko. “Is there something bothering you?”

“Nothing,” Yuyuko answered, pursing her lips. “It’s just stress. Don’t worry too much about it.” She took a rag to wipe her hands before continuing to put the salad bowl on the low table. “But I’m fine now. Summer is here and I plan to spend my vacation sleeping.”

“It’d be a waste, don’t you think?” Tamao asked back with a shake of her head. “How about we go to the swimming pool? Think of it as a refreshment.”

“Rui will love that idea,” Yuyuko agreed, almost grinning at the mental image of Rui spazzing at the sight of her Tamao-senpai in a bikini. Well, Rui would spaz at anything that’s Tamao related. “She might spend her monthly allowance to buy a waterproof camera so she can take your pictures.”

“You seem to know Rui better than me,” Tamao commented with a laugh. “Like, you’re her biggest fan or something.”

Tamao struck just a right note, neither accusing nor suspicious. It made Yuyuko stop for a while; eyes looked at Tamao as her heart welled up. To say that she’s a fan of Rui was an understatement because Yuyuko felt more than just admiration for that weird kid. Yuyuko felt guilty. She’s not supposed to feel like this. Rui already had Tamao, and Yuyuko would rather transfer out from Rinmeikan in shame before she could even think to betray Tamao.

Tamao was waiting for her response. Yuyuko felt trapped. She had to find other things to talk about or—

“Yukko, you’re awake already?” Oh the irony, Yuyuko told herself as she watched Rui made her way towards the kitchen. “Ah, Tamao-senpai, good morning!” the long-haired girl greeted with a gusto that would’ve made Yuyuko roll her eyes if she’s not feeling too flustered.

Tamao sent a look to Yuyuko before putting her usual smile to greet Rui. “Good morning, Rui-chan. We’ve just done making breakfast. Please have a seat.”

“Yukko helped? She woke up that early?”

“Rude,” Yuyuko jibed, feeling rather insulted that Rui felt that way towards her. “You can’t have Tamao-senpai all the time. I need affection too, you know.”

“Wh-what does that even mean!?”

Yuyuko yawned as she made her way out from the kitchen. “I’ll wake Ichie-san. Don’t do things that I wouldn’t do while it’s just the two of you, Rui. Most of us are still underage.”

Rui’s exasperated yell chorused against the wall, and Yuyuko knew that she had returned to the right track. This was her routine: playing the sleepy student who didn’t quite fit in with girls of her age, someone who worked just as hard but didn’t want the world to see because she’s not used of having people praising her, someone who preferred to keep her feelings inside because she didn’t want the routine to change because she treasured her friends dearly more than anything.

It’s fine like this.

*

“Yuyuko-san?”

Weirdly, she could recognize that voice immediately. It’s even weirder to see that Mei Fan was here, squeezing through the half-crowded train just to get close to her. Yuyuko could only look, counted the odds in her head, and just accepted that the universe had a funny way to work things out.

“Hello,” Yuyuko greeted with a nod, unconsciously brushing her hair as the girl got closer.

“Never thought I see you here,” Mei Fan commented with a small grin. “Where are you going?”

“Asakusa.” The train was tilting as it sped up the rail, prompting Yuyuko to tighten her hold on the handle, her front brushing against Mei Fan’s thanks to their proximity. “And what about you?”

Mei Fan shrugged. “I’ve been riding from station to station. Don’t have anywhere particular to drop by either.”

Yuyuko snorted. “Are you that bored?” she asked and found the pout on Mei Fan’s face adorable. She dug her hand into the pocket of her parka and offered Mei Fan a bag of gummy bears, which Mei Fan took three from it. “And I thought a Siegfeld’s Edel would’ve done something productive than circling the Yamanote line.”

“I should,” Mei Fan agreed as she chewed on the gummy slowly. “I’m doing people watching actually.”

“And do you find something interesting along the way?”

“Most people look at their phones, jam their ears with earphones, sometimes they’re sleeping. Nothing interesting to see,” Mei Fan replied dryly. “They’re just busy with themselves.”

Yuyuko raised a brow. “So that’s why you look happy to see me?”

“I’m happy to see a familiar face.” Mei Fan didn’t miss a beat. She unconsciously leaned closer to Yuyuko to give a pass to a walking passenger. “It’s a relief.”

“Why don’t you ask someone to come with you?”

“I could ask you the same thing on why you’re here alone.”

Yuyuko sighed softly and looked down, remembering her conversation with Tamao this morning. She’s not in a place to judge Mei Fan. She had her issues too. “My hobbies are not that exciting,” she stated. “Girls these days would’ve preferred to go to the cinema or cute cafes than watching a Noh performance.”

“Don’t put yourself down like that,” Mei Fan chided. Her voice was warm and Yuyuko turned her head to meet Mei Fan’s gaze. “That’s their hobby. You love watching traditional shows, I love collecting capsule toys. Everyone has their interest. It’s what makes us unique.”

“But your hobby is on the mainstream side. Mine is what old people do to spend their time.”

“Then I’ll come with you,” Mei Fan offered and Yuyuko was staring again. The taller girl’s mouth wrinkled with some kind of dedication. “Let’s watch Noh, rakugo, or whatever that interests you.”

Yuyuko couldn’t decide whether Mei Fan was genuinely curious or just pitying her. Probably the latter. “No. It’s fine. I’m used to going alone.”

“Let me go with you,” Mei Fan told her. Her face fell into a mix of seriousness and honesty. The warmth in her voice turned into something close like a plea, something that pulled and pushed the knots down into Yuyuko’s stomach. “Please.”

“Okay,” Yuyuko relented. She cleared her throat and pulled the hood of her parka up, covering her hair as well as her face that was starting to get hot all of a sudden. She peered at Mei Fan, who just smiled at her, and her heart was beating a little faster. “Just don’t blame me if you get bored.”

Mei Fan shook her head, “I won’t get bored when I’m with you,” dismissing Yuyuko’s statement, before looking at the speeding cityscape outside the window.

*

“That was my first time watching a live Rakugo,” Mei Fan noted as they walked down one of many alleys in Orange Street. “That rakugoka was especially great. The way he changed the pitch of his voice and his expressions was impressive. It felt like watching two people conversing instead of one. Even the transition was so smooth I didn’t realize that story’s ending already.”

Something warm made its way Yuyuko’s chest. To know that Mei Fan could enjoy Rakugo even though she had no background in Japanese traditional art (and she’s a foreigner too) was enough to make Yuyuko happy. Mei Fan knew how to appreciate art despite the boundaries of language and culture.

“I’m impressed you manage to stay awake until the end.”

Yuyuko was stealing glances to Mei Fan throughout the play, waiting for a reaction, a yawn, or visible boredom. Surprisingly, she found none of it. And to make things better, Mei Fan was the first to start the discussion. They talked about the play, the storyline, the techniques and music from the performance they just saw.

“It was a splendid show. Sleeping on it would be just a waste.”

Yuyuko laughed. “Rinmeikan has a lot of scripts and novels from the old times. I think we have Rakugo anthologies too. If you’re interested, I can recommend some books for you.”

“That would be great,” Mei Fan agreed, grinning widely. “I’ve been curious about Rinmeikan too because, you know, it’s the only art school that exclusively practices traditional art.”

“Our curriculum is rather old. As expected from our school, but it’s pretty fun,” Yuyuko replied with a smile. “I’m proud to become a part of it, honestly, but our department is dying.”

That smile quietly turned into a frown. It took a while for her to continue. Yuyuko fixed her gaze forward as her mind went to the time when the teacher announced that the Performance Department would be permanently closed down due to a lack of interest from prospective students.

“Meaning?”

“No one wants to join us,” Yuyuko explained, almost hated herself for being so pessimistic. “We might be not on par with Seisho, or even Siegfeld, but we’re working hard for our art, for our performance, and we love every second of that.” She looked down, ignoring the tightness in her throat. “It’s also the reason why we fight on the revue too,” she turned to look at Mei Fan. Her gaze was sharp. “We don’t want to lose the only thing that has been keeping us together all this time.”

“I’m sorry,” Mei Fan said. For some reason, she looked genuinely guilty too. “I didn’t—”

“It’s no one’s fault, honestly,” Yuyuko replied, sharply, and she kicked a stray pebble down the street. “I’m sorry that I suddenly bring this up. It… It’s been popping in my head no matter how much I try to ignore it.”

“I’m sorry I can’t say anything to make you feel better,” Mei Fan apologized. “I think you should tell your friends about this. Even if you can’t find any significant solution, at least you can share your burden with them.”

Yuyuko laughed nervously. “That’s not how it works out for me.”

“Why?”

“Because opening up takes a lot of courage.” Yuyuko reasoned. “I dislike changes. It disrupts the flow, it confuses me. Tamao-senpai has a lot of things to deal with too, and I don’t want to burden her more than necessary.”

“How about Rui-san?”

Yuyuko stopped. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I can’t speak to Rui when I’m feeling so many things for her,” she went on, not realizing that she’s talking too much, and it felt like a kick in the head when Mei Fan’s voice brought her back to reality.

“And you prefer to speak to me?”

She felt Mei Fan’s gaze on the side of her face, and Yuyuko wished nothing for a hole to jump herself into. She said it herself that she didn’t want to open up, so why in the bloody hell she’s always doing the opposite every time Mei Fan was around?

That’s the problem, however. Mei Fan came in the most random time in her life, unannounced. She offered the solace that Yuyuko never thought would find. Their time together was short, and yet Mei Fan made Yuyuko feel so many different things. Mostly stupid things and Yuyuko wasn’t proud of it.

“Yuyuko.”

Mei Fan called her but all she could hear was Yukko and the voice wasn’t even coming from Mei Fan.

Oh god, she’s hallucinating. Why now? Why must she think about Rui now? She stopped walking, her hand pressed on the wall of a nearby shop to steady herself. Her head was spinning, and Yuyuko wished she could blame the summer heat for messing her up.

Yuyuko’s eyes were wavering. I’m just a hypocrite, she told herself. Three times they’re together, and in those three times, Yuyuko was carelessly exposing herself. She wore her defenses down, she let herself vulnerable. It was a foolish miscalculation on her part. She should’ve never greeted Mei Fan that night.

“It’s because we’re strangers.”

“Stranger? But we’re friends right?” Mei Fan retaliated, confusion was clear on her face.

“You asked me to become your friend,” Yuyuko corrected. Her chest was hot. She couldn’t stop herself from talking. “Because Tsuruhime-san was angry at you. You insulted her and Fumi­-senpai. If you didn’t mess up, you’re not going to walk alone that night and both of us will not know each other.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Mei Fan pressed her hand on Yuyuko’s back. The touch felt like it’s burning her skin even though Yuyuko was wearing two layers of clothes. “You’re fine a few moments ago. Was it something I said?”

“I said too much. You make me too comfortable, and that doesn’t sit right with me.”

Mei Fan’s frown was getting deeper. Yuyuko was wary it’d botch the beauty that’s Mei Fan’s incredible face. “It’s not a problem. I don’t mind—”

“I do!” Yuyuko almost yelled. “It’s not right that I keep comparing you to Rui every time I see you.” The statement was cruel and Yuyuko didn’t know how to say otherwise. She turned her head and decided to look at Mei Fan. The hurt on Mei Fan’s face was subtle, but Mei Fan’s eyes were sharp enough to cut Yuyuko into pieces. “You’re not Rui and I shouldn’t feel anything for you!” Yuyuko quietly stepped back. The voices in her head told her to stop and apologize to Mei Fan, but her mouth still had too many things to say. “You said you don’t mind, but I don’t think that’s the case. You understand that you’re not obliged to give me moral support. Once we stop crossing paths, you will forget about me just like I’ll forget about you.”

The city seemed to pass in a blur, and Yuyuko was a second too late to react when she felt Mei Fan grabbed her wrist and yanked her into a rather secluded corner. Air knocked out from her lungs as her back met with the concrete wall. She opened her mouth to protest but Mei Fan’s face was stone cold, and Yuyuko had to swallow the bitterness that’s the mess she’d plunged herself into.

“No,” Mei Fan gritted through her teeth. “You’re not going to use me like that.” Mei Fan’s anger sucked the heat from Yuyuko’s body. Her voice was low and angry, to the point like it’s growling.   

Mei Fan’s hands planted firmly on the sides of Yuyuko’s head. The proximity and the difference in their heights was a clear disadvantage for Yuyuko. Their power imbalance was obvious and Yuyuko had no strength to push Mei Fan away.

“I didn’t use you, it’s the truth,” Yuyuko fought back although there’s a visible tremble in her voice as she spoke. “We met by chance. We’re able to talk because we have something in common.” She drew a breath, steeling herself to meet the fury in Mei Fan’s eyes. “Once it’s gone, we’re going to move on and forget about—"

“Don’t say that!” Mei Fan hissed, shaking her head.

“And what do you want me to say? That I need you!?” Yuyuko asked back. Her voice almost cracked. What she felt for Rui was too much at times, and Yuyuko didn’t want to risk her health by having a mental breakdown every time she’s with Mei Fan. “Aren’t you here because you still can’t move on from Yukishiro-san?” that seemed to hit hard because Mei Fan was taken aback by the accusation. If Mei Fan wanted to hit her, Yuyuko didn’t have any choice but to hit her back.  “You want a distraction.”

“No…”

“Yes. A distraction, anything that can make you forget about Yukishiro-san, but in the end, you’re still thinking about her.” Yuyuko didn’t beat around the bush. She pushed Mei Fan’s off, creating a distance between them. It’s unwise but necessary. “That’s why you’re riding that train alone. And I, coincidentally and conveniently, was there!” She pushed a finger on Mei Fan’s chest. “You said I’m using you to forget but you’re also doing the same. You’re shameless, aren’t you Mei Fan?”

Mei Fan bit her lower lip in an attempt to get a hold of herself. “Guess that makes the two of us,” she snapped back, as harsh as she intended to sound, but the hurt was still there too. “I’m sorry for being shameless,” Mei Fan muttered, poison dripping from her voice but it wasn’t for Yuyuko. “Maybe… we shouldn’t meet again. Not until we find out how to work out our issues…”

Is that a threat? was what Yuyuko intending to say. She’s not going to let this girl messing with her. But what she’s feeling right now was entirely different.

Yuyuko felt her fingers twitched; there’s this irresistible urge growing within her. Their closeness was suffocating because it made Yuyuko thinking about stupid things that would surely complicate her life more than it needed to be.

Mei Fan started to draw back as Yuyuko could only watch. Just watch, just watch, she told herself but her body moved on its own as she leaned closer, lips pursed and tight. She just held Mei Fan’s face in her hands, drawing closer, intending to kiss Mei Fan, but only managed to press against her cheek.

Yuyuko’s going to blame herself, blame her hypocrisy, blame Mei Fan, and  Yuyuko would stay up all night studying to forget all this. There’s no easy way out. At least not when Yuyuko’s brain was too fried to think of anything when she heard Mei Fan chuckling, sending a strange but unwelcome vibration down to Yuyuko’s core, as she took control and showed Yuyuko what a kiss should’ve been like. It was all a contradiction, nothing seemed to make any sense, and Yuyuko stopped thinking altogether as she pulled Mei Fan by the collar of her shirt.

Their next kiss was unavoidable.

This was where they’re at.

*

Yuyuko had been licking her lips for a while now. She stopped by the vending machine to buy a bottle of green tea, hoping that it’d be enough to erase the faint taste of tomato and salt from her tongue. She checked on her phone. It’s 7 pm (she didn’t want to miss the curfew), and her mind was taking another detour to process everything that happened today.

She kissed Mei Fan, in a broad daylight, and yet people who happened to walk by the alley didn’t seem to care. Probably they’re used to see that kind of thing.

They pulled away after a while. Mei Fan’s kiss was slow and smooth. Mei Fan held Yuyuko close; her fingers held onto Yuyuko’s chin as she tilted her head, an attempt to deepen the kiss, and Yuyuko was like pulling back, breathless, as the intensity of their kiss started to scare her.

Mei Fan knew exactly how to calm Yuyuko. Her breathing was soft against Yuyuko’s mouth, her teeth nibbling on the lips, teasing, pulling, and earning a soft whine from Yuyuko, before she kissed Yuyuko again, drawn by the gravity as she continued exploring the space that’s Yuyuko’s mouth.

Her first kiss. And she let Mei Fan took it…

How in the world she could end up like this?

“Yukko?”

She looked around and realized that she’s already arrived in front of Rinmeikan’s dormitory, and Rui was standing nearby with a plastic bag in her hands, probably tonight was her turn in the cleaning duty. Rui was staring at her with that same kind of curiosity and perceptive, eyes wide and sharp, enough to make Yuyuko almost squirm on her shoes.

“Rui.”

“Are you okay?”

“Somewhat.”

Yuyuko wasn’t sure if that’s the correct answer, and Rui seemed to sense it too because the girl was still staring. Despite the complexity of her feelings regarding Rui, Tamao, and Tamao and Rui’s relationship, she’s not that cruel to lash out at the girl. Her ears were ringing. Yuyuko could hear the gears in her brain cracking for excuses.

“How’s your stroll?”

“It was great.” Yuyuko enjoyed it even, all things considered. Rui hummed, walking towards the garbage bin, and Yuyuko spoke up again. “Rui, you and Tamao-senpai have kissed right?”

Rui’s mouth was open; her cheeks were flushed and stiffened. She’s the prettiest when she’s flustered, Yuyuko thought. “What?” she stammered. “Where did this come from?”

Yuyuko stepped forward. She closed the distance between them, carefully eyeing Rui whose face was just as red as her favorite tomato. She ignored the squirming girl and pushed her against the nearest wall.

“I have a question,” Yuyuko said quietly. “You kiss Tamao-senpai because you love her, right?”

“Wh-what? I didn’t—”

“So you don’t?” Yuyuko quickly added, not even missing a beat. “You don’t feel anything when you kiss Tamao-senpai?”

And Rui was taking offense to that because her expression suddenly turned serious. The red in Rui’s eyes were sharp and Yuyuko’s heart was beating a little bit too fast right now. “I love Tamao-senpai,” Rui replied. Her voice had this deep, distinctive husk that sounded eerily like the fabled Onikage. “Why do you think I don’t love her when you know that everything that I’ve done until now is for her?”

Yuyuko could only watch. That voice, that determination, that unshaken will… oh, how she’d give anything to have that kind of devotion for herself. It’s selfish to think about it now. “I know,” Yuyuko said, almost laughing. “That’s why I’m asking is it possible to kiss someone you don’t love.” Yuyuko swallowed the grainy bitterness down her throat as she stepped back to give Rui some space.

“Why are you asking me this?” Rui asked again. Her voice turned back to normal, but there’s a visible concern in it too, and Yuyuko was feeling guilty again. “Did something happen today? You look… confused.”

“I’m confused about many things.” The words started to flow. Needles were poking behind her eyes, and Yuyuko was thinking how dusty this place is. “I don’t want to feel a lot of things, okay? I just want to be the sleepy Yuyuko everyone knows. I just want you to wake me up every morning, to drag me out of my bed, to scold me because I’m just a lazy bum who sleeps through the practice because you know what? That’s what I want to have.”

Rui blinked. Utterly and understandably confused.

“What?”

Yuyuko scoffed. Her brain was chock full of words, faces, and voices. “You don’t realize?” she asked, desperate. “Of course not. I’m just your friend, your roommate.” The needles behind her eyes were getting annoying too. “You don’t kiss your friend, right?”

Yuyuko was so close to losing her mind, and not in a good way either. She just confessed and it’s nothing like what people said in novels or comic books. There were no butterflies in her stomach, no hummingbird in her heartbeat. Instead, it pulled on her guts, dragged on her insecurities, and Yuyuko was crazy aware of her shortcomings and the potential end of her friendship with Rui.

“Sorry,” Yuyuko said, didn’t look up, and quickly made her way inside, ignoring Rui’s call and the voices that repeatedly telling her to stop running away.

Everything was quickly changing.

But nobody told her it’d be this excruciating.

Chapter Text

Yuyuko heard a whisper.

A husk that tasted like a wind called her name, beckoning her close, as gentle as a lover’s touch. She squirmed. It’s still too early for this, but the whisper was insistent and Yuyuko opened her eyes.

Yuyuko felt hands, possessively holding Yuyuko’s wrists to keep her from squirming, and when Yuyuko tried to break free, she felt a pair of lips on her neck, showering Yuyuko’s skin with wet and heavy kisses.

“…Yukko,” the voice called.

The right side of Yuyuko’s head throbbed. She opened her mouth, intending to speak, and those same lips greeted her back, kissing her fully like it was meant to be, like an apple that fell silently from its tree. Through the mist in her eyes, Yuyuko saw swirls of colors until she was able to make out a face, a mouth, nose, and a pair of disarming eyes staring into her.

“Mei Fan…? What are you—”

Mei Fan’s smile was wicked, frying every nerve ends in Yuyuko’s body. She’s in her uniform but ditched the blazer and the gray sweater. Her tops were unbuttoned and Yuyuko could see a glimpse of black bra underneath her shirt. The girl dipped down and kissed Yuyuko again. Mei Fan was touching her but when Yuyuko tried to do the same, her hands went through Mei Fan’s body. It felt like touching a ghost; Mei Fan wasn’t even here and yet the kiss was still undeniably real. A gasp escaped Yuyuko’s lips when Mei Fan’s tongue brushed hers.

The kiss was long, wet and heavy. Mei Fan knew where to touch, where to pinch, where to caress, and Yuyuko was too powerless to stop this madness. She sought the fullness of it and pressed forward, sliding an arm around the back of Mei Fan’s neck to keep her close.

Even in the dream, she couldn’t run away from Mei Fan…

Yukko.

Yukko…!

“YUKKO!”

Rui’s loud voice awoke her and Yuyuko sobered up almost too quickly. Through the dull pounding on the side of her head, Yuyuko looked up for Mei Fan, eyes searched every nook of her room in a frenzy. Sweat made her pajama sticking onto her back like a second skin, and Yuyuko groaned when she felt something wet on her thighs. The dream was no more than hazy fragments now that she’s fully awake, but the sensation still lingered like a bad remembrance.

“Are you alright?” Rui was sitting next to her. Her hands were on Yuyuko’s lap as she watched her friend in concern.

Her throat was parched. It’s difficult to say anything right now. “Not in the slightest,” Yuyuko answered, honestly, and cleared her throat. “I have a nightmare.”

Yuyuko pulled the blanket to cover her body. That dream (or nightmare) made Yuyuko feel naked for some obvious reasons. She cleared her throat and averted her gaze. There’s no way she’s going to look at Rui when her heart was beating against her ribcage like it had gained a rabid sentient.

“You got chased by a giant pickle?”

“Yeah,” she decided to play along. The joke was lame, but Yuyuko appreciated Rui’s effort to comfort her. Rui’s grin was awkward, but it was a thousand times better than the dream Mei Fan’s smoldering smirk. “That giant pickle was this close from devouring me, but you woke me up first,” she put on a lazy smile and patted Rui on the cheek. “You’re my hero, Rui.”

“I was only joking. You don’t have to rub it off on me.” Rui was pouting but her cheeks were flushing in a slight embarrassment. It was always a joy to poke fun at Rui. Yuyuko already forgot her nightmare as she indulged herself at this moment where she could spend her time with Rui without feeling like she’s wearing a straitjacket.

“I know,” Yuyuko began, slowly uncrossing her legs. She ignored her sticky thighs. “Which is why I did just that. It was an unpleasant dream, you know.”

Rui peered at her for a brief moment before letting out a sigh, brows furrowed as she picked on the blanket with her nails. “Obviously. You looked uncomfortable,” she said, voice pitching down in a genuine worry. “You always sleep so soundly. Even loud noises can’t wake you up, that’s why I was worried when I saw you toss and turn like that.”

Yuyuko’s heart was acting up again. “You’re watching me when I sleep?”

“Not because I want to!” Rui quickly added with a huff. “I’m just worried.”

Yuyuko’s shoulders dropped slightly. She leaned onto the headrest to get a comfortable position. “I’m not some kind of sleeping machine that disconnects from the real world, you know. I can have a nightmare too.”

Rui didn’t seem too convinced. “Is it because of last night?”

“Last night?” Yuyuko repeated. She glanced back at Rui, pretending to be clueless. “What about last night?”

“About what you said to me, that ‘you don’t kiss your friend’,” Rui said, huffing. “Something bad must have happened during your stroll yesterday.” Eyes narrowed, Rui scooted closer to Yuyuko, blissfully unaware that she just made everything worse for the poor girl. “C’mon Yukko, tell me. What happened yesterday? Did someone hurt you or…?”

“You’re too close,” she muttered, inwardly cursing. Why did she have to be the short one in the world that’s designed for tall people? “And no, nothing happened.”

“You don’t trust me?” Rui asked, her voice dropped an octave lower.

Yuyuko growled. Rui picked a really bad time to be this pushy. Ignoring the dull throb in her head, Yuyuko stomped out of the bed. Didn’t put an ounce of care for her disheveled appearance and the dampness in her loin.

“I don’t trust myself,” Yuyuko corrected. It’s too early to have an emotional breakdown. Yuyuko even hadn’t had her morning tea yet. “Just forget what I told you last night, okay? I wasn’t in a good place yesterday and I talked too much.”

“But Yukko…”

“Rui, please,” Yuyuko shook her head. “I will tell you when I’m ready. Right now, my body is sticky and I need to take a shower. A cold one. Sure you’re not cruel enough to refuse me taking care of my hygiene, right?”

Rui was looking unsure. She observed Yuyuko for a brief moment before resigning. “Fine,” she said in finality. “But I still want to help you. You’re the coolest friend I’ve ever had and I…” she shrugged as if she’s trying to find a better word to say. Little Rui did know that she had this unholy ability to make Yuyuko happy even with the simplest words. “I don’t want to see you in trouble, okay? It’s fine if you don’t want to say it to me, but remember that you have the other senpai to help you.”

Yuyuko chuckled, finding the situation absurd. Rui was a person of too many contradictions. Rui was intelligent, driven, passionate, strong, and kind, but she’s also clueless, a pretty hopeless romantic, and also impossibly dense and stubborn. Rui wasn’t flawless, but she’s charming regardless of her shortcomings. Rui’s just frustrating like that

“Sure,” Yuyuko answered with a wave of her hand.

It was mostly her bias talking, but who could blame her?

*

Her phone buzzed again. It’d been nth time for today. Yuyuko checked on the notification and found Mei Fan’s name on the screen. 25 messages. 12 missed calls. She switched her phone off.

In the end, Yuyuko didn’t tell Rui a thing no matter how many times the girl egging her to speak up. While it was unfair to Rui, Yuyuko also had a good reason why she preferred to keep everything to herself. ‘Yeah, I kissed Liu Mei Fan from Siegfeld because I’m in love with you but you don’t love me back, so I need a rebound’ sounded like a bad joke. She didn’t want to guilt-tripping Rui for things that she had no control of. Yuyuko wasn’t that cruel. She wanted Rui just as much, but Yuyuko would put Rui’s happiness first before everything else.

Turns out, the dream didn’t exactly go away as Yuyuko had hoped. There’s that weird sensation that slithered down her body, like a touch from a snake, and settled down in that particular spot on her crotch. And while the books offered an excellent distraction, the memory was so vivid. It played on a loop inside her head, like a broken record, unfailingly reminded Yuyuko of her mistakes.

A fact: Yuyuko was restless. She shoved the books inside her bag and walked out of the library. Good thing that Rinmeikan’s library still opened in summer (although it’s just for half day), or else Yuyuko would be stuck in the dorm with Rui, Tamao-senpai, and Ichie-san. The hallway’s floor was creaking softly under her shoes and since there were no studying activities, the school was understandably quiet except for the buzzing cicadas from the outside.

There’s a faint sound of music coming from one of the practice halls. She pivoted her way to the source of music and peeked from behind the door. Unsurprisingly, she saw Fumi there.

It’s not a secret that Fumi’s level was beyond the capabilities of the entire Rinmeikan Performance Department. Tamao knew this too, that’s why she’d been spending time with Fumi to create a better training menu to get the better result. Yuyuko quietly slipped inside, watching Fumi doing steps and pirouettes in synch with the song. She moved in grace, every step she took was measured and precise, and Yuyuko wondered if Fumi was deliberately holding herself back so she didn’t intimidate the other girls too much.

Then again, Fumi was a Siegfeld student before transferring to Rinmeikan. An Edel, or something like that, and Yuyuko was reminded again about Mei Fan.

“Yuyuko?”

The girl was about to doze off when the music suddenly stopped and a familiar voice called her name. Fumi was approaching her, still in her leotard and a towel draped on her neck. Her face was slightly flushed and there’s a trace of sweat on her forehead.

“Hello, Fumi-senpai,” she greeted back with a wave of her hand. “I see you’re as diligent as ever.”

“Just having a bit exercise,” she replied with an easy smile. “You’re not here to practice are you?”

“I was from the library, then I got bored and decided to leave,” the girl explained with a light shrug. “Good thing that I didn’t bump to you earlier or else I have to spend this hot summer day having another Spartan training.”

Yuyuko’s relationship with Fumi might not be as deep as the bond Rui shared with the said senpai, but Yuyuko admitted that she’s comfortable around the blonde girl. Speaking to Tamao felt like burying yourself in a clean sheet after a long and exhausting day. Fumi, however, was different. Fumi was more practical with her approach to her juniors. She’s more pragmatic in providing the solution, preferring to face the trouble head-on and didn’t beat around the bush.

It was intimidating at first, but Yuyuko admitted that she admired Fumi for that.

“And what makes you think I’m not going to drag you for a stretch after this?” Fumi challenged, dabbing the sweat off her face with a towel. “As far as I’m concern, you’re the least physically trained compared to all of us.”

Yuyuko groaned. “Cut me some slack, will you? This isn’t Siegfeld.”

“You don’t have to be a Siegfeld student to have some discipline. It’s called perseverance,” Fumi began with a huff, squatting down to pick her water bottle from inside her bag. “But, if I have to be honest, you and the others are in better shape now. Not in a Siegfeld-level good, but more acceptable.”

Yuyuko didn’t have anything to counter that. She, too, didn’t care about her training routine. She thought that pulling an all-nighter and practicing Rakugo just by listening from the tape recorder would’ve been enough. She cringed when she realized how wrong she was.

“Are you going to the dorm after this? Tamao-senpai and the others are there.”

“I’d love to but I have a shift this afternoon,” Fumi replied, taking a swig from the bottle

“You’re still working in summer?”

The older girl gave a look that’s better translated as ‘duh’ to Yuyuko. “My apartment rent and monthly bills won’t pay itself, Yuyuko. And the boss offered a nice 1500 yen extra per week as compensation. It’s a good deal.”

Yuyuko was chuckling again. “I forget that you’re still high school students. You speak like a salaryman sometimes.”

Fumi rolled her eyes but she didn’t look offended. “I can’t possibly tap on my family’s trust funds after all that. I’ve caused a lot of trouble for them.”

Yuyuko stood a bit straighter. This was the first time she heard Fumi deliberately opening up about her past. Yuyuko had questions, lots of them, but Yuyuko didn’t want to seem too privy about Fumi’s matter. She played with her fingers, quietly observing Fumi from the corner of her eyes.

“Leaving Siegfeld must have been a big deal.”

“It’s something that I decided myself,” Fumi sufficed. She was sitting on the floor and stretched out her legs. Then, she looked up at Yuyuko and patted a spot next to her, which the younger girl complied with. “And yes, it’s difficult to become a student there, and leaving is not a trivial matter either.”

Yuyuko looked at Fumi as if she’s about to listen to a sage retelling an epic tale from a time long forgotten. “Really? What makes it difficult?”

“Paperwork,” Fumi answered with a serious nod, almost sounding dreadful as if she’d seen the fabled Ghost on the Theater herself. “God, the paperwork. There’s too many, I didn’t even finish half of them. I went out in a hurry, wrote a resignation letter, packed up my bag and left.” Fumi told her. The look in her eyes was looking rather distant.

“And your friends?”

The older girl shook her head. “I didn’t tell them. I talked to Yachiyo before I left, but that’s just it. No goodbyes, no ‘talk to you soon’. It’s terrible,” Fumi replied with a despondent look. Then, regret started to make its way to her face. “I didn’t even tell Shiori about it. Nothing mattered that time. I just wanted out.”

Yuyuko pursed her lips. “That sounded worse than the paperwork.”

The laugh that came out from Fumi was hollow. Yuyuko had never dreamed the day she heard Fumi making that kind of noise. “Maybe so. I caused a lot of trouble because of my selfish whims.”

“Did you regret leaving?” Yuyuko wanted to slam her head to the wall. Her mouth went unfiltered yet again. From how Fumi was looking at her, Yuyuko was more than ready to kneel in front of Fumi for mercy. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Eh, it’s okay. I didn’t regret leaving Siegfeld. That place is not for me. I’m scared of many things and I’m not strong enough to bear the burden, but yeah…” Fumi nodded in affirmation. Sadness slowly crept its way back to her beautiful face. “I regret leaving Shiori, I did a mistake by not telling Yachiyo, and I made Akira, Michiru, and Mei Fan disappointed.”

Yuyuko listened. True, there’s some sort of genuine guilt coloring Fumi’s face. Her voice went a little softer. Fumi always appeared strong, her work ethics were draconian and somewhat psychotic at times, and everyone in the Performance Department was admiring her. However, at this moment, Fumi was looking somber and sad, exhausted, and her usually staunch shoulders were weighted by a heavy burden that didn’t seem to disappear anytime soon.

“Your friends must have been devastated when you’re gone.”

“Definitely,” Fumi agreed with a heavy tone. “But they’re strong. It didn’t take too much time for them to get someone else.”

“Your sister?”

Fumi nodded. “Yachiyo told me that Akira handpicked Shiori herself. It must be really scary for Shiori to have the one and only Frau Platin assessing her. But Shiori passed the audition, so I think she did a very good job impressing Akira.”

Fumi’s explanation provided Yuyuko with some sort of clarity. The older girl was careful not to overshare things, but Yuyuko was able to understand why Mei Fan was bitter towards Shiori. Yuyuko didn’t understand how Siegfeld managed their rank, but it’s pretty clear that Akira had a quite significant amount of authority in that school. Seeing someone you admire personally paying attention to a girl who’s essentially nothing more than a replacement would set everyone off.

“Now it’s my turn to ask,” Fumi tapped on Yuyuko’s shoulder to get her attention. “Why are you suddenly interested in my time in Siegfeld?”

Yuyuko blinked, then her brain was cranking for more excuse. “Just curious. You always change the topic every time we ask you about Siegfeld. You just opened up so I decided to get to know more.”

Fumi stood up. Her smile was turning impish. “Since I have opened up my heart for you to see, it’s safe to assume that I can ask you something in return right?”

“You’re basing our friendship on a quid pro quo?” Yuyuko narrowed her eyes.

Fumi laughed again. She fixed her hair to a ponytail as she walked to the audiotape. “Don’t make it too serious. You look interested, so I’m guessing that you have something to say.”

Yuyuko balled her hand into a fist. Fumi’s right. She should’ve told Fumi a piece of her secrets. Fumi trusted Yuyuko enough to open up about her past, so why Yuyuko couldn’t just do the same? What made Yuyuko so afraid to open up?

“Fumi-senpai.”

“Hm?”

Yuyuko averted her gaze to the floor. “I’ve been meeting with Mei Fan.”

“Oh,” Fumi commented. She looked to the side with a frown as if she’s trying to remember something. “Yeah. I remember that Mei Fan was acting familiar around you. Good to know that you can make friends with her.”

Mei Fan was easy enough to friend because the girl was open and quite enjoyable to be with. But being Mei Fan also caused some complications. One that almost made Yuyuko lose her mind.

“I met her on the train yesterday. She didn’t have anything else to do and asked if she could come with me to watch Rakugo,” Yuyuko began. Fumi was paying her attention. Ironically, however, it made Yuyuko uncomfortable. She felt like a toad under the microscope, cut wide open and ready to become a specimen. “She enjoyed the show. And she told me that she’d like to watch it again sometime. With me.”

Fumi was blinking slowly. Confused. Yuyuko realized that she’s lacking the coherence, but what’s the point of coherence when her brain was too busy playing the image of Mei Fan kissing her without any intention to stop? It’s too cruel.

“Okay, so you had fun with Mei Fan,” Fumi kindly added a conclusion herself. “Huh. I remember that Mei Fan doesn’t have many friends outside of Siegfeld. She’s only familiar with the student council members,” Fumi nodded to herself, still blissfully unaware of Yuyuko’s predicament. “But you and Mei Fan are kind of the same, so I’m not surprised that you can befriend her.”

A scoff made its way out of Yuyuko’s throat. The noise was crisp and bitter. “Where did you even get that idea?”

“You guys are kind of an outcast,” Fumi surmised. She tapped on her chin as her expression turned suddenly serious. “Your interest in Japanese traditional art makes you the odd one. It’s not a bad thing, but I can see that you’re having a difficulty bonding with other people around your age because of that.”

Yuyuko could only watch. Once again, her suspicion was proven right. Siegfeld’s students did have the ability to read people’s minds.

“Mei Fan is not an outcast per se, but she’s a foreigner. She knows no one outside of Siegfeld and that makes her alone when she’s not in her social circle. And she can be very intense sometimes. Like she’s going to burn you if you ever get too close.”

Unconsciously Yuyuko touched her lips again. There was no aftertaste of tomato and salt on her tongue, but the kiss had left something deeper than just bruised lips and heaving breaths. Mei Fan’s lips had left a searing mark on her skin and no matter how many times Yuyuko tried to rub it off, it didn’t seem to disappear.

Fumi was right. Mei Fan was burning her.

“So Mei Fan is dangerous, you mean.”

“She doesn’t bite as far as I’m concerned,” Fumi was laughing and Yuyuko was being half-serious with her statement. “Mei Fan is a sweet kid. Overbearing sometimes, yes, but her heart is in a good place.”

There’s a husk in Yuyuko’s voice as she whispered, “…we kissed last night.”

“Come again?” Fumi asked, frowning.

Yuyuko spoke again. Twice as loud. Twice as painful. “We kissed last night.”

Fumi’s finger was hovering above the button as she took her time digesting what Yuyuko just said. She looked confused, surprised, and everything in between.

“And that’s because…?”

“Because I like Rui, and I need a distraction,” she confessed. The dream she had this morning returned in vengeance, and everything was sort of bursting out. “It’s not supposed to be like this…”

The younger girl bit her lip. It didn’t bleed but still hurt nonetheless. Those needles were poking on her eyes again. This time, however, Yuyuko couldn’t stop the water from falling.

Next thing she knew, her body was shaking and she couldn’t breathe as if there’s a rusted chain squeezing on her chest. It was horrible; Yuyuko couldn’t even hear the blubbering mess that came out from her mouth. Then, someone wrapped their arms around her and a pair of lips pressing on her forehead. She heard Fumi’s voice telling her that ‘you’re fine’ and ‘breathe, Yuyuko,’ and end up in ‘I’m here for you.’

Yuyuko was not fine. Yuyuko was confused. She opened up too much. She lost control of herself.

It’s not fine.

*

Fumi’s house was just as homely as she remembered.

Yuyuko had calmed a bit although sniffles and hiccups were still present as she rubbed her face with the sleeve of her parka. She couldn’t see Fumi clearly when the girl came from the kitchen. The blonde girl was pouring a cup of tea and Yuyuko bit the inside of her cheek. She hated being a mess.

“Here. Drink,”

Fumi offered her the cup. The tea smelled undeniably sweet as Yuyuko inhaled its scent. Under normal circumstances, Yuyuko wouldn’t think twice to enjoy it. Luxury didn’t come every day after all. But no. Not now. Fumi already sacrificed her work hour to accompany Yuyuko. Serving Yuyuko a cup of her expensive tea blend was an overkill. She couldn’t accept it.

“No. I can’t. You—”

Fumi’s stare was hard enough to break a rock and Yuyuko quickly looked down, guilty. She picked the cup and quietly sipped on the tea. It’s still warm; the taste was a blend of honey and apple. The first sip abled her to breathe a little easier. By two sips, Yuyuko felt her nerves start to calm down and the nuclear warfare that happened inside her heart had calmed considerably.

“I’m sorry, Fumi-senpai,” Yuyuko apologized. She meant it too. “I made you miss your work today.”

“It’s okay. I can’t leave you alone like this,” Fumi quickly dismissed her. She sat across from the younger girl, quietly sipping her tea with her eyes watching Yuyuko.

Fumi was just observing now, but Yuyuko knew that she ought to tell Fumi something. She weighed on her choices, picking on her skirt as she did so, before taking a long, exhausted sigh.

“Guess I have to elaborate some things to you, right?” she asked quietly.

“If you don’t mind,” Fumi shrugged, fully giving Yuyuko a choice. “You just had a panic attack. I’m not sure if you’re ready to tell me everything.”

Yuyuko was a mess back there. She cried as if she’d never cried before, almost choking on her tears, and everything felt like they’re crumbling out of control. Fumi took Yuyuko to her apartment, holding onto Yuyuko’s trembling hands as they walked out of Rinmeikan. Fumi didn’t even have the chance to change her clothes, but she managed to throw some sweatpants and jacket for modesty. Now Yuyuko was in Fumi’s place; she’s calmer now, but the tears were still coming out once a while.

“Maybe I’m just overreacting, I don’t know,” Yuyuko admitted. Sweat made her hair clung onto her forehead and Yuyuko brusquely brushed it off. She should’ve told everything from the start, but her memories were a bit convoluted as they were. “It was only a kiss. Never thought it’d turn me to a mess.”

“Everything is a big deal when we’re teenagers.” Fumi’s mouth twisted and she looked at Yuyuko in sympathy. “Ideally, you should’ve had your first kiss with someone you love.”

Yuyuko’s head hung even lower. “Yeah,” she answered, almost like a whisper. “I must be looking very stupid.”

 “Half stupid. You’re frustrated because of Rui, and kissed Mei Fan to distract yourself.” Fumi corrected with a disappointed voice. “But we’re teenagers. Making the wrong choices are one of our specialties aside from singing and dancing.”

Yuyuko’s mouth still tasted rather salty, and Yuyuko quickly drank on that sweet tea again. “I can’t tell Rui because that would be bad for all of us. Rui and Tamao-senpai are together, and I know I have no place between them. And Mei Fan. She’s…” Yuyuko looked up at Fumi as if looking for permission to continue. The other girl offered a nod. “She can’t move on from Yukishiro-san and Shiori-san.”

Fumi was sighing softly. She shook her head in regret. Even her face was looking apologetic. “When Shiori told me that she’s having a romantic feeling for Akira, I knew it would mess someone up.”

“Are you against the idea of your sister with Yukishiro-san?” Yuyuko couldn’t help but ask. She understood that Akira and Shiori meant no harm (hell she’s not even familiar with those two), but their relationship had caused some disturbance and collateral damage on her part.

Fumi frowned as she weighed on her option. “I would’ve preferred my sister to love a less complicated person,” she answered bluntly. “But who am I to say? Akira makes more than half of Siegfeld crushing on her so hard, so…”

Yuyuko pursed her lips in contemplation. “Maybe that’s the case,” she said quietly as she stared at her hands on her lap. “Mei Fan said that she’s very close to getting Yukishiro-san for herself, but…”

“I kind of get it why she’s feeling like that,” Fumi said with a somber tone. She, too, was giving a despondent look to the teacup on the table. “It’s frustrating to be the one who picks up the pieces. Nobody has the patience for that.”

Yuyuko sighed again, reminding herself to breathe. She’d been sighing a lot these days. “I think both of us were really… unsatisfied with everything. I didn’t mean to kiss her. I just wanted to get out, but we’re really angry. Not at each other but it felt like it was, and that happened.”

“You’re reckless. Both of you,” Fumi’s voice was firm and it still cut just as hard. Fumi’s eyes were glued to Yuyuko’s frame, sharp and disarming, and Yuyuko felt very small. “I don’t have the right to admonish you considering I messed up too, but really. Using someone else as a rebound is not healthy. This kiss is just the beginning.”

“I didn’t mean to use her. She’s just… everywhere.” Yuyuko grabbed a tuft of her hair in a fit of frustration. “I met her that night when she’s wandering alone in the city. I thought I had to do something because she looked so miserable.” The words were just streaming out between the two of them. Her sadness began to disappear into the void and only anger remained. “Everything was a little out of the blue. She came to my life uninvited and I was an idiot for opening up too much. We are ‘friends’, but friends aren’t supposed to kiss each other, right?”

Fumi met Yuyuko’s gaze.

“You should tell Mei Fan that,” she pointed out bluntly as she took a long sip of her tea. “Make it clear. Create that line where you stand on. There’s a healthier way to support each other. This is not it, Yuyuko.”

Yuyuko looked at her bag. Mei Fan had been flooding her phones with messages and calls for the past hours. She didn’t dare to guess how many of them now.

“And what do you feel about it?” Fumi asked her again. The color of her face turned somewhat softer. “About the kiss? Or even about Mei Fan?”

At first, it was nothing. She talked to Mei Fan as a stranger on the night they first met, and Yuyuko had steeled herself to stay that way. The kiss, however, lingered, and Yuyuko had no means to erase it from her memories.

It was a vivid image of Mei Fan’s face, Mei Fan’s fingers stroking the skin of Yuyuko’s neck, Mei Fan’s lips when she kissed Yuyuko gently, ardently, and made Yuyuko felt like she’s forgetting her existence at that moment.

“Conflicting feelings,” Yuyuko admitted slowly, somewhat annoyed that her face grew slightly hotter.

Fumi placed her chin on her hand as she kept observing Yuyuko. Her perfect brows rose in curiosity. “Do you hate her for taking your first kiss?”

“I… don’t know,” Yuyuko confessed. Her fingers were curling on her skirt, squeezing on the material hard enough to leave a wrinkle. She peered at Fumi with a hope the older girl could give her some sort of clarity. “Mei Fan is a nice person. She takes interest in what I like, which is rare because she’s a foreigner and doesn’t have any knowledge about Japanese traditional art.”

Another quiet moment. Yuyuko’s fingers were clenched, knuckles were slowly turning white. Her ears caught a buzz of cicadas from the nearby park, faintly, as Yuyuko tried to calm herself. Her emotions were acting up again.

Fumi’s voice, nevertheless, was gentle as she gave Yuyuko another question.

“And then?”

Her heartbeat. It went a bit too fast as it pounded against her ribcage. Her chest heaved.

“And there’s something about her that makes me…”

Her mind wandered to the moment when Mei Fan kissed her. Intense didn’t do justice to explain the sensation of Mei Fan’s kiss and Yuyuko felt her cheeks burning again. Her feet were starting to feel funny, so shifted on her seat.

“Mei Fan has been texting me since this morning. Don’t have any idea what to tell her either.”

Fumi didn’t miss the obvious change in conversation but she just offered a smile. An understanding one that made Yuyuko felt guilty for running away. “I see,” Fumi said with a knowing smirk on her face, crossing her arms as she leaned onto the table. “You can start by clearing things up.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It’s not but you can always try.”

There’s a weight in the sentence, something that made Yuyuko’s heart ached for a wee second. Fumi was looking at her. The green in her eyes was looking soft, gentle, and Yuyuko thought that maybe Fumi understood something when Yuyuko barely had a grip on it.

The older girl was surprisingly gentle throughout the conversation. Fumi was the same person who coldly rejected Tamao’s invitation to join the Performance Department months ago, the same person who openly criticized how pathetic their performance and rubbed that fact mercilessly on their faces, the same person who often chased Ichie around the campus over a prank.

“You sound like an older sister now, Fumi-senpai.” Yuyuko’s eyes brightened with shrewd amusement, the first time for today.

Fumi smoothed her hair and turned away. “Technically, I’m older than you.”

 “And you care for me more than my nonexistent older sister,” Yuyuko added, enjoying Fumi’s obvious embarrassment at the compliment. “Can I call you Fumi-oneechan from now on?”

Fumi rolled her eyes. “I can become your psychic,” a silence and Fumi was serious again. If Fumi was acting, she did a really good job by making Yuyuko feel very tense for a brief second. “With a price, of course.”

“I can give you my point cards. There’s a delicious bakery in town that accepts points as payment. They serve mean chocolate cornets and have discounts for regulars too.”

Fumi was laughing again and Yuyuko joined with a small chuckle. Today had been weird. Yuyuko was exhausted, but Fumi provided a better comfort than the solitude of the library. However, Yuyuko was still embarrassed by the fact that she broke down in front of Fumi. She probably had to give Fumi something as retribution with how unsightly her behavior was.

Something hot went up to her cheeks when she felt Fumi lovingly ruffling her hair, and Yuyuko could only stare. Bashful.

“Thank you, Fumi-senpai,” she muttered with a lazy grin. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

Fumi was grinning but she shook her head in disagreement. “Don’t mention it. I just happen to know what to say. Other days though, not so much,” she said. Her fingers lingered to smooth on Yuyuko’s hair, and Yuyuko almost nodded off because it was comfortable. Fumi was being gentle to her. “You can rest here if you want.”

Yuyuko was already half asleep, muttering a soft “Hm?”

“Rest. You’re tired,” she offered. “The place is nothing fancy, but you won’t get nightmares here.”

Regardless of the haze that’s clouding her mind, Yuyuko remembered that she mentioned something about a nightmare to Fumi during her breakdown. It was embarrassing to remember it now, but at least Fumi didn’t judge her for that. And, true, Yuyuko was tired. She was barely sleeping last night and that nightmare was a rude awakening for her, both mentally and sexually. She felt really dirty just from thinking about it.

“If you don’t mind,” Yuyuko nodded. Her cheeks were flushing again. “Thank you, Fumi-senpai.”

Yuyuko slowly made her way to Fumi’s bed. The pillows bounced when she fell onto the bed and she pulled out one arm from her parka, but the position was comfortable and Yuyuko was too tired to make any unnecessary movement. She took a deep breath, finally relaxing, as the scent of jasmine made its way to her body.

Her eyes were getting heavier. Somehow she heard someone singing in the background. A lullaby, maybe? It’s too far away and Yuyuko couldn’t make up the lyrics, but the voice was nice and Yuyuko welcomed it. Her heart was beating considerably slower, the knots in her muscles were slowly disentangling as Yuyuko drifted deeper into slumber.

*

It’s more than just painful, she thought.

The worst part about kissing Yuyuko was that it felt like a change, like making a bad choice on purpose.

There’s no practice today. The humidity made Mei Fan feel sticky and it was too hot to go outside. Most of the students were either back to their hometown or vacationing somewhere. Michiru was going to the bookstore while Akira and Shiori went somewhere that Mei Fan didn’t bother to be privy of, and Yachiyo went to her parents’ house for some family gathering. Mei Fan, however, decided that she’s not going back to China this summer. Aside from the fact that she couldn’t find a cheaper ticket, she also didn’t want to face her family when she’s still an embarrassment like this.

But with the weekend that she had, where time felt like it’s speeding up and slowing down, Mei Fan found herself obsessing over Yuyuko; obsessively thinking about Yuyuko, about the mistakes she had committed, about the apologies that seemed to bounce against the wall that’s Yuyuko’s unabashed silence, and the painful realization that she just lost a friend because of her selfishness.

   She left voice mails. Most of them were shorts. Some were asking for forgiveness, to call her back, that sort of stuff when you did a mistake and tried to amend. Yuyuko didn’t reply to any of those; maybe she deleted them without a second thought, too.

Mei Fan slid onto the couch. Her limbs felt heavy and she’s sleepy too. Nighttime didn’t provide any comfort. She tossed, turned, buried her face into the pillow, but sleep never came.

She left another voice message.

“I don’t know what to say to you. I feel… so many things. Guilty. It’s my fault. I could’ve done something else. I could’ve calmed you down instead of cornering you like that… then maybe things would’ve been different. That maybe we can still be friends, that we can watch another show or something like that,” Mei Fan paused, rubbing her face with her hand. “And you’re correct. I want a distraction. The moment when I met you that night, I just knew that you can provide that distraction. I’m selfish, I know. And then I found out that you’re no different from me. That we share something in common, and I thought that we can work this out.”

There’s a lump in her throat that she swallowed. “I have no control over your feelings. I mean, both of us are the same, you know. I want to stop thinking about Akira-san and Shiori, and you don’t want your relationship with Rui-san changes, so we’re kind of using each other, but I…” her voice hitched. She’s angry, but there were other things too. “I shouldn’t have robbed your first kiss. People might think it’s stupid but it’s not because I know that you’re the type that cherishes everything even if you don’t show it. Your first kiss… it shouldn’t be with me. It’s supposed to be with someone you adore. Not me.”

There’s a crack in her voice. A small one. Definitely would earn her a scolding if she were rehearsing the play. No one should see her like this.

“You know,” her breathing came in little shivers. Her eyes felt rather hot. “I keep thinking about yesterday when we watched Rakugo. It was really fun. You told me a lot, and I could see that you’re smiling so happily. It made me happy too. I want to see more plays with you. I want you to show me more about the things you like, so I can understand you better, so I can see you more than just a distraction.”

Mei Fan’s mouth was dry. She’s talking too much. Yuyuko would delete this one. Or worse, maybe Yuyuko had erased Mei Fan’s number and pretended that Mei Fan never existed in the first place.

She rested her head on the cushion, feeling her energy seeped out from every pore in her body. Mei Fan was tired, but she didn’t stop talking.

“I should’ve gone to Rinmeikan to meet you, to say that I’m sorry,” she muttered. Her eyes were getting heavier. “But I didn’t. I’m scared of you, of what you think of me, and that makes me the worst of all… don’t you agree?”

*

Shiori walked out from the washroom, smoothing the curls of her hair when her eyes caught Akira standing by the wall and her heart was skipping a bit faster. The older girl was wearing a flannel shirt, skinny jeans, and sneakers. Her outfits were considerably casual than her usual long dresses and skirts. Akira was attractive too, and people were openly staring at her as they passed by.

“Sorry for waiting.”

Akira just offered a nod and proceeded to walk with Shiori following beside her. The shopping mall was packed with people who wanted to escape from the brutal summer heat outside. Shiori’s small stature was a disadvantage, and she almost swept away by the crowds from the opposite direction.

“Stay close to me, Shiori.”

Akira took Shiori’s hands in hers. Their fingers were entwined as Shiori could only watch. Akira’s touch was more than capable to make her feel safe. Just like the first time Akira hold her hand, their fingers fit perfectly, and Akira’s grip was firm enough to make Shiori forget all the unpleasant things.

“Thank you for coming with me today.” The loud environment inside the shopping mall prompted Shiori to speak louder.

Akira spared her a look before looking forward again. “World tea conference in summer is a bit out of season, I think.”

“Yes. The timing is a bit weird, but at least I can get some free merchandise. See,” Shiori held up her left hand where she brought a tote bag full of assortments of the tea blend. “And I should share this with the other senpais too. Ah, can we go to the cake shop after this?”

“You just can't stop spoiling us, can you?”

Shiori’s smile widened. Joy was shamelessly radiating from those clear green eyes. “Yes! All of you are working so hard and with the summer play coming up, the least I can do to help is to provide the best drink and food to boost morale.”

Akira’s laugh was easy, free. Shiori never heard Akira sounded so laid back right now. “You make it sound like we’re going to a war or something.”

Shiori blinked. “It’s not?”

“Well, if we’re talking about the revue, then yes it’s a war,” Akira shrugged while scratching the back of her neck. “But I try not to think about it like that again. I want to enjoy the performance as much as I can.”

“You’ve changed,” Shiori commented as she snuggled closer to Akira. “You always have that serious look on your face. A scowl like this,” she pulled the best Akira scowl impersonation, which earned her a bemused look from the older girl. “But you smile so often now, and I think smile looks better on you.”

It was never easy to make Akira blush, but the girl’s cheeks were looking slightly pink. “Is… this what they call flirting?”

Shiori wanted to laugh. Akira was genuinely clueless about everything and, Shiori had to admit, it made Akira oddly endearing. Both of them were still new in this relationship. Every discovery, no matter how little, was precious. Shiori was a romantic, a dreamer, and she wished this moment would last forever.

“It’s called a compliment.” Shiori brushed her fingers on the side of Akira’s face as she smiled. “But I suppose calling it flirting is not wrong either.”

“Whatever,” Akira huffed as she squeezed Shiori’s hand tighter, firmer. Like a sign of reassurance. “Still want to go to the cake shop?”

“Yes.”

Shiori never prepared herself when she decided that she’s falling for Akira. The older girl’s popularity was astronomical, almost ridiculously so, and everyone in Siegfeld was openly keeping tabs on everything she did. Akira had images to maintain and it hurt Shiori that she couldn’t openly show affection to Akira when they’re at school.

The fact that Akira also shared the same feelings was enough to send her flying to the stars. Shiori treasured everything that she did with Akira: their kisses, a brush of hands in the middle of the hallway, small touches when Shiori handed Akira the documents, and other moments in between. It made her heart swell and she’s going to cherish this moment forever.

They walked in front of a store that sold merchandise from animes and mangas. Most of the visitors were kids and they’re just as rowdy. Some of them were hogging on a capsule toy machine. Probably a new one because some of them were openly frustrated because they couldn’t get the toys they want.

A pang made a pass in Shiori’s heart.

She remembered the first time Mei Fan took her to a manga store in Ikebukuro to try on a capsule toy machine. That day, Mei Fan spent almost 5000 yen on the game. She even got rare toys and gave some of them to Shiori. Mei Fan’s smile was wide and proud as she handed Shiori the goods, saying ‘I’ll take you to other places sometime. There are some rare toys I’d love you to see.’

It was a promise, one that Shiori didn’t know if it’ll come true.

“What’s wrong?” Akira squeezed her hand and Shiori recognized her surroundings again. “You want to play that capsule machine?”

“No. I just remember about Mei Fan-senpai.”  Akira was visibly stiffening. The taller girl kept her eyes forward as if she’s not affected by it. Shiori tried again. “I heard she got the 6^th place in finals.”

“It was tough,” Akira sufficed. Her voice was curt and sharp. “I asked Mei Fan about it too, and she said that she’s going to get better in the 2^nd semester.”

“Is that all?”

This time, Akira was openly looking at Shiori. “What do you mean?”

“Is that all you say to Mei Fan-senpai? Just talking about her grades?”

Shiori would rather not talk about this, especially not in the middle of their date, but she couldn’t keep a blind eye forever. “Akira,” Shiori called. Her voice was softer this time. “We still have to clear things to Mei Fan-senpai.”

“I know. I tried to talk to her about it several times.”

“It didn’t work, did it?”

Akira shook her head. Her grip on Shiori’s hand loosen, but she still held the shorter girl close. The hallway was less crowded and both of them decided this would be a good place to talk. Akira had her back against the wall, her head hung low, as Shiori could see the shame rising in that face.

“No,” Akira sighed, full of annoyance, mostly to herself. “It didn’t. Mostly because I’m too stupid to understand people. I even don’t understand myself sometimes.”

“Don’t say that,” Shiori spoke slowly. “I tried to talk to Mei Fan-senpai too, but I just can’t find the right words to say. It’s like there’s a wedge between us. Every time she looks at me, I feel guilty for…” taking you away from her, but Shiori didn’t say it. Instead, “things that I’ve done.”

Akira brushed her fingers on Shiori’s cheek. Her expression was filled with regret that Shiori was all too familiar with.

“I kissed Mei Fan that day,” the girl confessed as she held Shiori’s face in her hands. “I said that I want to understand my feelings for her.”

Shiori appreciated Akira for coming clean, but the image of Akira kissing another girl didn’t work very well to dampen the jealousy that started to flicker in her heart

“And?”

“It was a mistake. I thought I couldn’t choose between the two of you,” Akira continued, still with the same humility that’s unlikely for a Frau Platin to have. “But when I kissed you, I realized that I wanted you so much and I didn’t know how to take that.” She said out loud. Embarrassingly enough to cover her mouth with one hand. “With Mei Fan—”

“Akira,” Shiori cut her off. “We really should talk to Mei Fan-senpai. She has her eyes on you first, and I understand why she’s angry with our relationship. She wants your attention.”

“I’ve been trying to keep my attention to all of you equally,” Akira defended herself.

Shiori, patiently, nodded. Akira was under a lot of pressure and Shiori wasn’t blind to how hard Akira was working to keep the council going. “Michiru-senpai would’ve said otherwise. I mean, she knew exactly what’s going on between us even when she’s not directly involved.”

Akira snorted. “I’m not exactly thrilled with that. Michiru can be really sly.”

“That’s not a good thing to say about your friend,” the younger girl chided with a frown.

“I’ve been knowing Michiru since we’re little. She’s a great friend, but I sometimes don’t have any idea what she has in mind.”

Shiori agreed to an extent. Michiru always presented herself as a harmless senpai who’s ready to give a helping hand. Michiru was friendly and it was really easy to get comfortable around her. She would lead the conversation, carefully gouging answers and confessions, and achieve what she wanted before the other person realizing it.

“Anyway, we still have to sit down with Mei Fan-senpai,” Shiori insisted. “I have my part in this. Mei Fan-senpai joined the student council because of you. I can see clearly how she openly adores you. And she has helped me too when I became the Frau Jade, so…” the girl pressed Akira’s hand to her chest and pressed a kiss on the knuckle. “I love you, Akira, but I don’t want this relationship destroying our friendship too.”

Shiori was not the bravest. She’s acutely aware of her weakness and how she still had lots to learn, that a relationship was more of a self-discovery. Fumi’s departure brought her to meet with a lot of people, friends and adversaries, lovers and others in between. Shiori was grateful that she’s allowed to kindle a special relationship with an equally special someone, but she also treasured her friends dearly and didn’t want to lose any of them.

“Okay.” Shiori looked up. Akira was smiling at her as she leaned in to press her lips on the golden of Shiori’s hair. “You’re right,” she laughed. It sounded more like she’s admonishing herself. “I’m stupid to think that I have everything under control.”

Shiori grabbed Akira’s hand, “we both are,” she muttered, kissing the skin again.