Archive of Our Own

Classes are over, thank goodness. Even the teachers decided to take it easy considering the turmoil of the past few weeks. Maintaining a partnership with the second most dangerous gambler of the school is already taxing as it is and Algebra II wouldn’t be welcome among Mary’s other thoughts.

“Won’t your sister get annoyed if we use her lounge like this?”

She even debated lowering her voice to speak, as if afraid the sofas, and tables and aquariums would judge her presence in a room that isn’t supposed to receive it. Shaking her head, her silent companion gestures for her to make herself comfortable on the couches.

They didn’t say much as they came here. Ririka wants to talk about the Election, and no wonder. Mary doubts they have much else to talk about considering how little they have in common. To find that masked figure waiting for her after class was still unsettling, even after all those weeks.

This is her enemy’s lair. Taking a moment of respite will be hard, yet, Mary does accept the silent but polite invitation of the other.

“Don’t waste your time with that.” she says, hearing the sound of porcelain and metal spoons behind her. “Rather, tell me what you wanted to talk about.”

As if too focused to reply, the clinking doesn’t stop. Ririka’s taking her time, meticulous and focused, as if she was preparing tea for the Queen of England herself. 

“I wanted to know your opinion on our partnership, after our last gamble.” she says. Her disquieting voice joins the sound of pouring water.

“I already told you. You didn’t have to go overboard like that, even if that Rin guy had it coming. You did more than you had to. Why are you asking?”

The aroma of tea is filling the room. It does bring something to Mary’s memory, faint recollections and boiling anger. Her last visit here has been far too unpleasant to pursue those thoughts.

“I wanted to know how you felt.”

Hiding a smile, Mary replies: “Why? Are you starting to have doubts?”

“Not at all.”

Quiet steps. Ririka appears in her field of vision, a tray balanced on her hands. “I told you, you didn’t have to.” says Mary as she sets it down on the table between them. 

“A question of politeness. You’re a guest, after all.”

“I’m not only a guest though, am I?” asks Mary rolling her eyes. “And I’m still not sure about what you wanted to discuss.”

She reaches for her cup. A strong floral aroma. The brew’s perfect, but Mary’s stomach turns at the thought that it’s the same tea she was offered back then. She grimaces. The stench of her enemies is hard to ignore.

“You’re right.” replies the other. “I wasn’t done asking.”

“If you want to ask something you gotta take off that thing. Speak of politeness and then! Tsk!” says Mary, but there’s no need for her to. Her interlocutor has already raised her hand, a pondered gesture quite unlike the usual hasty fretting. Saotome should have understood at once.

Eyes of amused ice stare back at her as they come into sight. 

The little bastard must have seen the dismay in Mary’s eyes before the latter could suppress it, for she isn’t trying to hide her smile. Quite the contrary.

Saotome closes her eyes. The tumult in her chest makes her grit her teeth, thoughts are crowding her mind like worried patients at the doctor’s office during a pandemic. 

“ Fucking bitch.”

“I’m glad to see you appreciated my little surprise.” Kirari’s voice reaches her in the darkness behind her lids. “I thought you would be vexed.” 

“Shut up.” Mary’s words are like gravel bullets between her teeth. “Just tell me what the fuck is the meaning of this.” she says glowering.

She’s doing her best not to let the control over herself slip. Kirari sets down the mask to take her own cup of tea, unfazed.

“Such coarse language is unbefitting of you, you know. I promise I mean no harm.”

“ You don’t but I’m pretty close to slapping that drag queen smile outta of your lips.” thinks Mary. She’s already putting down her cup to get up.

“Thanks for the tea, but you’ve already wasted enough of my time.”

“Why, stay please. I won’t force you to, but at least do listen to what I have to offer.”

“I want nothing from you.” snarls Mary, a bit too fast, a bit too aggressive. 

“Now now. I didn’t think you’d be so disappointed to find me instead of my sister.”

“Where is she?” asks Mary, the rage warming her temples at the other’s smirk, “Does she know you’re here?”

“Well, she does know I took her place. Just like you know we switch often enough, yes?”

“You haven’t been trying very hard to hide it.”

“Still, it’s laudable.” says Kirari smiling, “Not many know about our secret, although you still can’t tell us apart.”

Mary shakes her head, annoyance covering her features like sugar on pastries. Torn between the rational desire to leave in order not to give the other any satisfaction and the unbearable need to stay and fight she can do nothing but cross her arms and frown .

Kirari must have noticed her hesitation, for she says: “I take it you will listen? In that case, please do take a seat.”

“I’m not interested in joining your Council, I already told you. Most importantly now that I have a chance to cut your head with my own hands.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t ask the same thing twice. Not unless I prove you it’s worth it.”

“Whatever it is that you’re planning –…” spits Mary, only to be interrupted by a voice as firm as gentle.

“If you would let me finish, that would help us both greatly, I assure you. Now, as I was saying.” Kirari crosses her legs. “I do see why Ririka’s working so hard to be with you.”

“What do you want, President? Get to the point.”

“Ah, well. For starters, how about we drop the formalities? You can call me Kirari, if you want.” As she speaks, Kirari sets down her cup, her hand coming to rest on her chin.

“We’re not friends. Don’t even think about it.” 

“If we’re not friends then, do grant me the familiarity of enemies at least.” 

The President’s smile is growing vexing by the minute. If its malice is really as harmful as it looks, Saotome’s far too angry to consider it.

“ Get. To the point.”

“Mary, I do know we’ve had some… discords , in the past. And now that you made it clear that you do need some proof of faith in order to join one’s side, allow me to make you an offer.”

“What will you gain from it?” asks Mary at once, only to be reprimanded.

”Easy now. One thing at a time. You know I find you interesting, fascinating. You do know I want you in my Council.” Kirari’s getting up now. Knowing her peculiar – or rather, non-existent – sense of personal space, Mary can’t help but step back, glowering.

“I can show you my good faith, but only if you let me. The Election is in full swing, there are dozens of invitations piling on my desk. It would be my pleasure to have you in the audience.”

Mary scoffs. “Do you realize what you’re saying?”

“Yes. Do you?”

“If I wanted tickets to a show I’d just buy them. What’s the point in all this?”

“You’re a smart girl Mary, but I can see where the question comes from. You want to be President, don’t you? Very well then. Allow me to show you what it means to be President.”

Velvet words and cutting eyes. Mary feels the unease ebbing inside her.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” she says.

“Neither did Ririka’s proposal. If all, it had even less sense, for she forced you into your partnership. Are you suggesting I should do the same? After all, you do seem like the kind that bends, but doesn’t break.”

There’s a weird glimmer in Kirari’s eyes. She can sense her amusement, a cat and its mouse, yet there’s a nest of emotions weighing in Mary’s chest as she forces herself to reply: “Ririka isn’t like you.”

Kirari hums. “Now, are you sure about that?”

“Enough of these games. I don’t need you to show me anything. You’re just a narcissist.”

She took a step forward, Kirari, but she’s chuckling now. 

“Nothing of the sort.” she says. “I really just wish to give you reason to join me.  And if I fail… perhaps you’ll find a good way to bring me down, at least.” 

Kirari’s close. Close enough a slap could reach her cheek, a headbutt her nose, some spit her eyes. Her lips…

“Let me show you my proof of good faith.”

Those blue eyes speak of things Mary can’t quite understand. There’s a sharpness not too unpleasant, a charm in each lash and light speck. It feels like looking in the eyes of the mamba before it gets ready to strike. 

“ It’s a trap. ” thinks Mary. “ Just like the rest of this goddamn place… ”

“You can’t show what doesn’t exist.” she grumbles, low.

“Not unless you let me.”

“You’re crazy.” snaps Mary, baring her teeth.

Kirari hums. She reaches for her cup before settling back down. Now that she’s a bit further, it’s much easier to breathe.

“Unless you give me a chance to change your mind, I’m afraid I won’t be able to do much.”

“I don’t recall this ever being a problem for me.”

“Mmh, perhaps so. But at least, do allow me to talk about details before your tea gets cold.” 

፠         ፠        ፠

A week. 

More than enough, and yet, when Mary enters the gambling hall, her reluctance is as clear as the sun.  “ You wished to put up a bigger fight, mmh?” thinks Kirari, hiding her amusement behind dainty fingers. “ Now, what is it that convinced you? Did you set up some tricks for yourself? I know you don’t trust my words… What is it that tempted you? Ririka? Or the thought… of my demise?”

It doesn’t matter, not now. Saotome’s just a face among the dozens surrounding this table, and her eyes are the prettiest in the room, if only she wouldn’t cover them with that unsightly frown. 

Kirari chuckles to herself, too soft for anybody but Sayaka to notice. 

“President…?” says the latter. 

Kirari shakes her head. The ennui that had been cloaking her features right before she noticed Saotome comes back to its old place, and how could it be otherwise, after all: the people before her are barely worthy of sitting on those chairs. Pale faces and fretting hands. Even the baize seems to scorn them. 

Those five opponents would look better where they used to: under Kirari’s heel, long before the Election spat in their faces the meagerest of hopes. 

“ Offer a finger, and even toothless dogs will come bite your arm.” thinks Kirari, nodding back at the dealer.   “ You’d eat these people whole, Mary. You’re nothing like them, and Yumeko might have attracted your attention, but you… you’ll see better things than the last sparkle of lunacy, I promise.”

Well now.

There will be time.

 The dealer offers her cards.

፠         ፠        ፠

If Kirari has any weaknesses, Mary can’t say she gets to see them.

The fact that she refuses to talk to her doesn’t help of course, but she’s too stubborn to do otherwise. She shows up at some of Kirari’s gambles, and that’s already vexing as it is.

From the shine of her blue nails when they come to touch the cards on the baize to the lax lines of her lips when boredom becomes unbearable, everything in Kirari seems a monument to skills too refined or perhaps too honeyed by luck to be human. 

She shines at the tables, and it shouldn’t be surprising, considering her foes. One can’t deny the magnetism about her features though, nor about the way her eyes move, ever so bored yet always brimming with unspoken things. 

Mary watches with unspoken contempt as the star of those bizarre shows goes all-in in each and every gamble, scaring away her opponents every time. 

Kirari didn’t say anything about keeping their ‘agreement’ – which Mary has not accepted just yet – a secret, and soon enough, Mary starts regretting that lack of attention on her part. 

“ If you have to look at me every time I enter the room, can you at least avoid smiling like that?!” she thinks once when, upon entering the gambling den, Kirari doesn’t even try to hide the glance she shoots her.

The President’s attentions seem to grow even more insistent as the gambles succeed one another.  

Her Secretary would be blind not to notice those unwanted considerations. Mary would need to be blinder still not to see Sayaka’s puzzlement as it gives way to open, unconcealed hostility. 

“Front seat. How about it?” says Kirari one day, startling Mary out of her wits. She appeared out of nowhere behind her, offering her a spot by her chair. 

In the flurry of emotions which occupies Saotome’s throat for a moment, Igarashi’s protests aren’t long in coming. 

“But President! Saotome has now reached the top ten among the participants in the Election! You can’t let her be so close! Certainly you – …”

Mary has the time – along with a generous dose of satisfaction and dread – to see Kirari’s eyes turn into the sharpest of shards, her jaw rigid in marble-like tension. A veil of gelid silence falls over the trio and those close enough to hear the exchange. 

“As I was saying.” says Kirari, as Igarashi bows her head and tries to become one with the tiles, “It would be my pleasure to have you at my side. Perhaps you’d like to take a peek at my cards, yes?” 

“No.” says Mary, dry. 

“I see I haven’t managed to convince you yet.” replies Kirari. Vexed and yet surprised, Mary feels the note of displeasure as she chuckles. “Another time, then. Wish me luck.”

“Not even if you pay me to.” mutters Saotome, yet her chest warmed at the smile she received. 

“ You almost seemed like a normal person there for a moment.” she thinks, watching her leave. “ Almost. Too bad, the more we go on the more I feel like you’re doing this to piss me off. This monkey show… what the hell do you want from me?”

፠         ፠        ፠

“If you keep going all in like that, won’t it get harder to find new opponents?” she asks once, after the last match is over. The lounge is the same, but perhaps Saotome isn’t. Kirari wishes it, at least, and she must have changed somehow, if she finally managed to convince her to exchange a few words after the last game.

“ It took me only seven gambles… did you give up because I was starting to get on your nerves or because I managed to make you curious?” thinks Kirari amused, closing the door behind them. 

There’s a tension about Saotome that shouldn’t be so steadfast in such a young face. 

“Why,” replies Kirari, “all the better. It’ll draw out the kind of players I’m looking for. Would you wish to be one of them, I wonder?”

She’s only half-serious, yet Mary’s irritation is as earnest as usual. 

“No, thanks. My hands are already full at the moment.” 

Arrogance or familiarity make ease down in one of the couches, without any invitation this time. That spot will soon become hers if she keeps this up, considers Kirari. 

“ All the better.” she thinks as she meddles with the tea set. 

“Does my sister keep you busy?” she says, forcing the barest hint of a smile in her voice. 

“Of course she does.” replies Mary. “She did prove her worth as a partner, after all.”

“ Cheeky brat.” Kirari’s smile stretches on her lips. She plays along as she gets the cups ready. 

“Why? I didn’t?”

“The only thing you managed to prove so far is that this school is full of pussies.”

“ Bonjour finesse.” thinks Kirari, holding back a chuckle. That coarseness is out of place in the mouth of a young lady, yet, she doesn’t find it all too unpleasant. Quite the contrary, in fact. It’s a breath of fresh air among people as deceitful as Yumemite, or as quiet as Ririka. 

“I take it you wouldn’t consider yourself one of them?” she asks, smiling. The tray is once again in her hands, just like that one time. She rests it on the table between them, but this time she sits by Mary’s side. She’s far enough they both have space to make themselves comfortable, yet Saotome scoots a bit farther anyways, her eyes uneasy under the frown. 

“ I’ve never met someone as fun to tease as you…” 

“Of course I wouldn't. Also, it would be quite a poor choice on your part to be so persistent with someone you’d consider weak, wouldn’t it?. ”

Kirari hums as she sips her tea. 

“Be careful now. It might almost sound as if you cared about my opinion.”

Mary snorts. “Your opinion is worth less than nothing, most importantly now that you gave up your own seat.”

“ You say that, and yet here you are…” thinks Kirari, amused. “You were right though.” she says, as Mary also drinks from her cup. “If you hadn’t proved your worth at the Debt Settlement Meeting, you wouldn’t have caught my eye.”

Again, another snort.

 “ I’d like to tell you to refrain from doing it in my china. I even changed the kind of tea for you… honesty and manner. I wonder where I could find some for you…” 

“Just how much are you obsessed with me?” asks Saotome, arrogance glimmering in her eyes like a pond under a summer sky. Kirari doesn’t know her that well yet. It’s hard to know someone who keeps sweeping their own feelings under the rug, yet, she’s almost sure she read something else in the molten gold of her iris, in the bitter slope of her mouth. 

“Obsessed is a big word, Mary. I simply said that people like you fascinate me.”

“‘ People like me’ don’t exist. I’m the only one around.”

“ ...Oh?”

“You’re right.” says Kirari, playing along once again yet watching her words like a skilled player does with his pieces, “That only supports my case though.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

A hard voice. Cutting, like the eyes that are trying to show themselves dull as they observe the amber tea in its shiny ripples. 

Kirari’s gaze is far too ruthless to mind that abashment. She’s too skilled a player to mind one’s poker face. She’s also far too interested to fall back. The air in the room prickles her skin under the uniform.

“I had many reasons to have Ririka join you.” she says. “The main one, I’d say, has been right before you from the very start.”

If the person before her is known for her dishonesty, Kirari has nothing to hide. The truth of her words feels just right on her tongue. 

She likes this game. She likes it all the more now that her opponent is too enigmatic, too unwilling to let her see a solution in the puzzle of her feelings and thoughts. Like a hunter smelling the blood of his prey, Kirari’s starting to sense something in the other’s demeanor, a scent unfamiliar yet enticing emanating from that Apollonian skin.  

“I have no idea of what you’re talking about.” says Mary, yet even she must feel it. She sounded as if her voice was caught up elsewhere.

“You do fascinate me, Saotome Mary.”

Kirari can’t help herself. Her hand has made its way on Mary’s chin. She had meant to do it ever since their very first meeting, and she doesn’t blame herself, not in the least: Saotome’s skin under her fingers fills her with an energy too wild, too new, too tempting to wish to rein it. 

“ More.”  beg Kirari’s entrails as she shifts her weight to get closer. 

“You fascinate me more than I’d ever be able to say…”

“Cut it off.” says Mary, her head jerking to the side in an attempt to gain distance, but Kirari’s set her mind. Not only that: red’s coloring Saotome’s cheeks, its warmth the most appetizing of tastes. 

“ More. ” says Kirari’s tongue as she tastes her own saliva. 

They’re close now, too close. It’s hard to breathe, it’s hard to understand where one begins and where the other ends and yet: Kirari’s hand is the only thing connecting them. 

“You’re disgusting.” says Saotome, and God only knows why. 

She’s thinking: “ How did this happen?”

She’s thinking: “ I’m disgusting.” as the warmth in her belly grows scorching and the blood in her veins runs like lighting on an endless night. 

“There’s beauty in what we loathe, Mary.” murmurs Kirari. The name is like velvet. Her breath caresses Saotome’s nose. Tea and Bulgarian rose. It’s hard to breathe, it’s hard. “Thanatos and Eros… life and death.... Just like in gambling. ”

“Stop it.” 

It’s hard to speak through gritted teeth. It’s hard to think, and there’s so much screaming in Mary’s chest, anger, always always anger, surprise, confusion and –…

She clenched her eyes without meaning to. Kirari got so close all of a sudden she did it out of impulse. The President’s hand on her cheek is warm like nothing Mary has ever known. 

There’s almost no distance between them. Upon reopening her eyes, Saotome sees nothing but blue, gelid gems among pristine skin, and the scent of Bulgarian rose, Kirari’s scent, is so strong and so vivid that she feels as if she will never forget it. It etches itself in her chest, growing painful under the weight of its own tumults.

She’s not breathing, Mary. 

And Kirari... Kirari’s doing nothing but mocking her. 

The sound of porcelain shattering is loud enough that even her nerves jolt under her skin, yet Mary is already lunging forward, the hand with which she slapped the cup out of Kirari’s hand shifting to grab the other’s thigh. Her own cup fell on the couch, its hot contents spilling on leather and clothes alike as Kirari sinks in the cushions under Saotome’s weight. 

A roaring heat is crowding Mary’s mind, her chest, her ears as she looks upon eyes that for the first time don’t look so cold all of a sudden. She doesn’t get to think: “ I was the one taking you off guard for once.”

She’s too wound up for that. 

“Stop messing with me,” she says, “You don’t know what you’re doing.” 

She’s out of breath, fuck.  

“Do I, now?” Languid and soft, Kirari’s voice sends a shiver down Mary’s spine, making her grit her teeth. “Why did you join me?”

“Fuck you, President.” 

Saotome doesn’t know what’s going on, but she does know one thing: from this point on, no matter what happens, nothing will ever be the same. The awareness of that feeling is so strong it blocks her. Her hand, clenched around Kirari’s right wrist over the candid tresses, digs in the flesh. The other… Kirari’s white throat is calling to it, enticing.

A sigh. Kirari’s back arches under her, her free hand coming to caress Mary’s wrist like snake’s coils as her fingers become one with the dainty skin of her neck. 

“Why did you join me?” says Kirari, and it feels good to hear her voice struggling, it feels too good.

“I’m better than you.” says Mary. “ I will be.”

“Will you?”

“ I will be.” repeats Saotome, violent. 

She doesn’t recognize the scent in the air, not yet. It’s something she has only smelt alone, in the privacy of her own room, in the darkness of her own sheets at night, when the world is asleep, and nightmares and desires alike get their saying on people’s mind. 

“ What am I doing?” thinks Saotome, as the President caresses her face once again. 

Kirari pushes her fingers inside rosy lips. 

Mary, with eyes as wide as suns, lets her. 

She sucks on them, and they’re bitter, like only unwashed hands can be, and it’s mortifying, but it can’t be stopped: Kirari’s pupils melt, her thighs press against each other under Mary.

“Good... girl…” breathes the President smiling. At once the fingers around her neck turn into steel. 

Mary’s teeth clench on the hard bones of her fingers before she pulls herself away. There’s a rivulet of her own saliva at the corner of her lips as she says: “Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“How could I?” chuckles Kirari. The grasp tightens, she gasps, but she’s already shifting her weight.

Saotome loses her balance. The tea on the sofa soaked through the hem of her skirt, she feels the hard edge of the cup against her tight as she falls over. Kirari manages to free her neck, her arm shifting, and now they’re facing each other, side by side: Mary’s pressed against the cushions, Kirari’s almost about to fall off but they’re holding onto each other as if they were trying to tear the flesh off the other’s bones. All they see is eyes growing feverish, cheeks, and ears and throats red with everything and nothing.

“ What… is this?” thinks Mary, as Kirari’s teeth find her neck pulling herself on top of her. 

“ You’re killing me.” thinks Kirari, as a taste never felt before invades her senses. Her lips on Mary’s light up the darkness behind their lids. Saotome’s hands are fighting to get under the other’s shirt, tasting goosebumps and lacy underwear before finding what they’re looking for. 

Kirari’s tongue is gentle, yet still too foreign to let its presence go unpunished. Mary’s teeth taste its soft flesh. 

A chuckle, another. Out of anger, Mary manages to force herself upright, and she’s straddling Kirari again now, her legs forcing themselves between silk tights, damp with tea and something else. 

Mary sees it when she lifts her skirt. Its scent, through the fabric, is driving her crazy. Her knees tremble as she takes off her blazer and throws it on the floor. 

“So eager…” whispers Kirari. She’s enjoying the show, it’s clear.

“S- Shut up.” mutters Saotome, self-conscious all of a sudden. 

“Force me.”

Mary throws herself forward with enough strength their teeth clash, and it fucking hurts, yes ma’am, that was a stupid move, but it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t know who moans, but to taste another’s voice trembling like this: her fingers tear shreds in Kirari’s pantyhose as she pulls them down.

She feels hands under her own skirt, pulling down her underwear, and up until now, everything has been so violent, so warlike. She doesn’t think this is love. She doesn’t think this is sex either, for there’s nothing to think about, if not Kirari’s scent drawing painful pangs in her belly, her taste soaking her tongue. 

Everything slows down as Kirari’s fingers take their time on the hem of Mary’s panties. Saotome’s face feels too hot as an unwanted groan leaves her throat. 

“Good girl.” says Kirari again, her voice and smile as soft and gentle as her fingers. 

“ Don’t. Call me that. ” says Mary through gritted teeth.

Her right hand finds one of Kirari’s tresses, where it ends its loop, pulling the other’s head back. 

Kirari knows exactly what she wants, how she wants it, where to find it. She reads Mary’s body like one reads a map, and it’s hard to keep up. 

Mary knows her own desires, just like she knew them everytime Kirari’s thought came to disturb

her nights, her blue lips mocking her in the dark. She has imagined their warmth countless times. She has imagined her tongue between her legs for long enough she melts at the mere thought. 

It takes effort to accept a truth as pungent as roses’ thorns though.

It’s hard to understand what happens next: Kirari manages to lure Saotome toward her face, and it’s embarrassing to have her crotch so close to someone else’s nose, Mary keeps pushing on her skirt, a futile attempt to mask a smell far too recognizable and alluring. 

“Let me,” says Kirari in a smile, breathless. “I’ll be gentle.”

“Fuck you.” replies Mary, shivering. 

“Why, be my guest.”

Another pull at her hair, she whines, but she’s right, and Mary knows it. It’s scary to feel one’s skin like this for the first time. Saotome’s left hand made its way on Kirari’s abdomen under her skirt, and it’s knocking the breath out of Saotome’s lungs. 

She can’t stall though, she can’t. Her legs are giving way under herself, Kirari’s nose is now close enough Mary whines as it touches her. Kirari’s tongue finds the moisture between her thighs. As Mary touches another woman for the very first time, the warmth between her lover’s legs is the beginning of the world and all its ends.

፠         ፠        ፠

When Saotome opens her eyes again, she has no idea of how much time has passed. She’s been resting by Kirari’s side for what feels like a lifetime, and Kirari is no better. She’s awake though, more than her. 

She’s looking at herself, at the ripped pantyhose hanging from her right leg along with her black stained underwear, at the braid that lost its loop when Saotome gripped it in her climax. 

There are three shoes on the floor somehow. Mary’s ponytails have lost their shape, loose strands cover her sweaty face. Her white panties are on the coffee table, and as much as the sight makes her blush, she can read the pleasure in Kirari’s eyes. 

Mary jolts as she pulls herself up: reaching for the back of her thigh, her hand reappears holding her now empty cup. Both of their skirts and socks are soaked with its content. 

Pale eyes follow Saotome as she puts her feet on the floor, careful not to cut herself on the shattered porcelain of Kirari’s cup. 

She’s looking at her own cup when she asks, to no one in particular: “What the fuck was that?” 

፠         ፠        ፠

Two weeks. Gone. 

“ I played a dangerous game,” thinks Kirari, staring at the umpteenth baize of a gambling table without seeing it. “ Perhaps I had it coming…”

She obtained what she wanted, and yet much more. It was a conquer, and yet she was the one who gave herself up. She’d be lying if she said she wouldn’t do it again. 

In nineteen years of life she’s played innumerable matches, encountered countless enemies, but the one who almost choked her in her fury wasn’t a foe. 

Kirari doesn’t know who or what Mary is for her. 

When she sees her enter the gambling hall after almost three weeks though, she does know that she likes her more than she ought to. 

፠         ፠        ፠

“Are you sure you’re still interested in our partnership?”

The question doesn’t come out of nowhere. The heat grows in Mary’s cheeks, for she knows she has answers now. She’s not sure she wants to give them though. 

“Huh?” she says, forcing herself to glare, “What are you talking about? And take that thing off, for God’s sake.”

At her side, Ririka’s steps come to a halt, but she doesn’t mind the other’s request.

“Do you still want to be my gambling partner in the Election?”

“Sure. Why are you asking?”

At once, Mary regrets her own words. The mask before her is as familiar and eerie as usual. What’s different is the tensions in the shoulders below it, the paling knuckles under the sleeves. The silence weighs in the hallway.

“Ohi.” says Mary, reaching forward, “If you want to talk you gotta take that thing off I told ya.”

Ririka’s fingers are steel as she stops her hand midair. They mean no harm, but the strength in them… Mary has to make an effort not to let her emotions show.  

“No. Not this time.” says the modified voice.

“Ririka–”

“This partnership of ours… I don’t believe it’s needed anymore.”

“What are you saying, idiot! The Election–” stammers Mary, trying to raise her voice, to show herself like the person she was just a few months ago. But Ririka’s good at reading masks, isn’t she? 

Saotome can’t tell her about her nausea, when at first she thought about how Kirari touched her. She can’t tell her about the way so many parts of her yearned for more, confusing, and hurting and angering her, until she was forced to reappear again in that cursed gambling den. 

She could tell her everything. But there’s nothing to say. 

Ririka’s words are so faint as she leaves they might as well be a dream. 

“You don’t know her like I do. Be careful.”

፠         ፠        ፠

“Something’s bothering you, I can tell. Is it the fish again? As I told you–”

“No, no. It’s just – If I were to ask you why you’re doing this… with me…”

“Why, you already know the answer.”

“Yeah, fascinating and all that crap. What about literally though?”

“What prompted this question? I didn’t think you were the type to fish for compliments.”

“Fish for – listen! Rumors are starting to spread. You’re being too open with this – and move that goddamn elbow, you’re hurting me!”

“My apologies.”

“...”

“...”

“...Well?”

“Mmh?”

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Elbows are a necessity, but your comfort–”

“I’m talking about the rumors, you dolt!”

“Why would I mind them?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because we’re in the middle of an Election and we’re supposed to be enemies, or because people have started to target me thinking we’re allies. Plus, your Secretary pulled the taser on me the other day. Is that allowed at school?”

“Oh, that girl never changes. And concerning the targeting, I’m sure you can handle it by yourself. I’m looking forward to seeing that, in fact.”

“Tsk, you did all of this only to put a target on my back?”

“Maybe. Or maybe not. Your question was different though, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, and you didn’t reply. Also, stop staring at me, you pervert! Where’s my shirt, goddamnit–”

“It’s like asking an art-lover to stop staring at the Pieta, my dear. I can’t help it. And if I were to say what made me like you… intelligence, looks, temper. The fact that I can’t understand you still fascinates me.”

“Wait. Temper?”

“Yes. You’re like the best-looking diamond I’ve ever seen, and yet you’re the roughest one. The shiniest, most beautiful – what happened to your face?”

“Screw you! M-Mind your business, idiot!”

፠         ፠        ፠

Classes are over. Thank goodness. The last few weeks have been far too taxing for Mary’s tastes. Today then, she’s even got a few errands to run. She’s still fiddling with her textbooks but she’s already walking out of the door when she bumps into Suzui’s back.

“Hey, what the–”

“Saotome–”

“Huh?” 

From behind his shoulder she sees the reason for his paleness: a candid braid here, the corner of smiling blue lips. At once, Mary shoves him out of the way, a mess of emotions clogging her chest.

“You?! Here?!”

She tried to keep her voice down, but it’s clear she didn’t do a very good job. Kirari’s smile only grows larger. 

“I know my next gamble is tomorrow but… I wanted to see you today. ”

“Couldn’t you, y’know, warn me!?” 

“Why, where would be the fun in tha–”

Kirari jolts as Mary hits her forehead with one of her notebooks.

“S-Stop playing around!”

Blinking and making sure the tip of her nose is still where it’s supposed to be, Kirari tilts her head sideways, observing the color change in the other’s neck. 

“Is there anywhere you’d like to go today?” she asks unfazed. 

“I’m busy now! I have things to do!” 

“ And don’t ask me on a date in front of everyone, you idiot!” adds Mary to herself, already walking away from her startled classmates. 

“What things?” asks Kirari, following suit. 

“Oh, for God’s sake! None of your business! ” replies the other scoffing. 

“Well then, is it okay if I accompany you?”

“ What? Ki– I mean, President. Are you sure you don’t have anything better to do today? Really really sure? ”

“Oh, absolutely. I had Sayaka clear up my schedule earlier.” says Kirari seraphic.

“ Are you fucking kidding me?”

They’re already at the entrance. In her efforts to put distance between them, Mary’s sweating, and the fact that the more Kirari follows her the more she grows flustered doesn’t help, not even one bit. 

“All right, listen.” she says in the end, turning at once. “I gotta do some shopping for my mom today, what would be the point in you coming with me?”

“Don’t you have servants taking care of that?” replies Kirari, only to add, “From your expression, clearly not. How about this then: I come with you–”

“ No.”

“–but if I end up bothering you, I’ll leave at once. Deal?”

“Kirari, what’s gotten into you today? Why are you so insistent?” 

“I told you.” In a movement too fast and too smooth to follow, Kirari’s hand comes to rest on her hips, pulling Mary close and helping her fasten her bag.  At once, Mary becomes aware of two things: one, they’re in the middle of the courtyard , and two, her cheeks have turned into four different shades of red as the gesture caught the attention of everyone in the proximity.

“I want to be with you today.”

“ Wh– ”

A squeak, rather than a word. Almost tripping over her own feet, Mary steps away as fast as she can.

“W-W-What the hell is wrong with you?! ” she yells, “If you want to follow me, whatever, just stop being an idiot! Dumbass!” 

“Ah, perfect. I’ll be calling the car then.”

፠         ፠        ፠

As much as she became her – partner? Lover? Girlfrie– but no, no, nothing like that – Mary must admit that there’s very little she knows about Kirari. And Kirari might or might not be one of the most powerful women of Japan, but that doesn’t change the fact that this seems to be her first time in a grocery store. 

“Stop looking like that.” mutters Mary, as she compares the prices of the milk. 

“Like what?”

“Leave the fishmonger alone, Kirari. Here, hold the basket for me instead.”

“Allow me to tell you, this is quite tedious.”

“ I told you I – Ugh, leave it. I’m not the one keeping you here.”

“Of course you are.”

“Y-You know what I mean! Idiot!”

Mary’s quite sure she forgot at least two items, but it doesn’t matter. People are starting to stare. Wide eyes and mouth agape, they mostly look at Kirari but it’s too vexing.

“ I’m with her, can’t they see? Are they trying to pick a fight or what?”

She can’t blame them though. Kirari is already quite a sight on her own with her odd hairstyle and blue makeup, but the shopping basket really adds to it. 

“ Trying to be a shark in your aquariums and yet...You couldn’t be a housewife, not even in a million years…”

“Mmh?”

Oh, crap . Kirari noticed she was smiling to herself as she looked at her. 

“I-It’s nothing! Grab the dried seaweed for me! The seaweed, Kirari.”

With Mary’s annoyance, Kirari tries – and fails – to pay for her groceries with a ten thousand yen bill at least three times before they manage to leave.

“I’m done now.” says Saotome in a sigh. “You can go home.”

“Absolutely not.” states Kirari, firm. “That was quite boring. I want to do something better, for both of us.”

“Kirari, I can’t go around with this stuff and there’s no way I’m going back and forth for you.” replies Mary, rolling her eyes. 

“We can deliver groceries to your mother with one car. I’ll call the other to bring us elsewhere.”

“Kirari…”

“I already have a place where I want to go with you.”

“ Kirari.”

“My mother will get a heart attack if she sees dinner arrive in a limo.”

“Only for today. I promise. I know this was all very sudden but…”

She’s close now. Close enough Mary can see she’s earnest. She can also see she’s already starting to reach for her hand and she can’t let that happen in public. 

“Alright, alright.” she concedes, recoiling, “But only for a few hours! And I want to know exactly where we’re going!”

A smile, the first since they left the car. 

“ So silly…” thinks Mary, as the other starts blabbering about her plans. 

፠         ፠        ፠

A private jet was waiting for them at the airport, but no matter how hard Kirari tried to convince her, Mary just wouldn’t give in when it came to that trip. 

“ Plan B will do… for this time.” thinks Kirari as she keeps the door open for her companion. She can see Mary’s discomfort as she starts to realize the kind of place they are in. 

The Momobami, however, are regular patrons at this restaurant. The owner not only doesn’t mind their uniforms. Greeting them, he bows deep enough to show his baldness before leading ‘Miss Momobami and her guest’ to their table. 

It’s early to have dinner, and Mary keeps muttering about it, yet Kirari insists to have the waiter light the candle between them. 

“It doesn’t matter if it’s early.” she says, trying not to show herself too amused as she watches Mary struggle with the four forks at her right. Saotome’s two years short to drink alcohol, but the cocktails they bring them are good enough without it, just like the food. 

“Why did we come here?” asks Mary, frowning. The pink of her cheeks is wonderful in the light of the candle. 

“You refused to take the private jet. And the music in that store was awful.” says Kirari, smiling. 

A pause. Kirari wouldn’t admit it yet, but there’s nothing as fascinating as the light in Saotome’s eyes when she’s deep in thought.

“After all this time, I still don’t understand what I’m doing here.” mutters the other.

“I made you an offer.” says Kirari. “As you accepted, I’m the one who should ask.”

“You don’t know clear answers, do you?”

“Mmh, perhaps.”

A scoff. Kirari holds back a smile.

“It took me long enough to bring you here.” she says, reaching for Saotome’s hand on the white tablecloth. “Let me enjoy the fruits of my work.”

Disappointed, she sees the other’s hand disappear out of her reach. 

“Right.”

Mary looks elsewhere as the waiter brings them yet another welcoming dish. 

Kirari does her best to talk of everything and nothing. 

And Mary, little by little, relaxes in her seat.

፠         ፠        ፠

They speak a lot. Mary does rather, and for once, Kirari’s okay with it. She doesn’t tell her about the glimmer in her eyes when the topic kindles a spark in her, nor about how she loves the way she cleans her mouth after every morsel. Mary doesn’t speak about her doubts either, nor about a hatred that at times makes her stomach turn, or about the warmth in her chest when Kirari lets herself laugh. 

Kirari doesn’t tell her that Ririka seems to have turned into a ghost in her own house. She doesn’t mention the silences at home, the absences that are starting to weigh on the relationship with her sister. Sooner or later she’ll have to talk with her, but not tonight. Mary doesn’t want to hear that, just as much as Kirari doesn’t want to talk about it. 

She listens to her chatter, about school, and games, about Sayaka and her displeasure, even though Kirari has already warned her about it. As the night proceeds, Kirari finds herself thinking: “ You don’t look like the girl who growled at me in my own lounge two months ago…”  

Her eyes walk over the other’s face like tireless pilgrims, with an intensity that, at times it’s clear, bothers the owner of those features. Kirari learns once again that Mary isn’t one to keep quiet when something doesn’t sit well with her. 

She remarks it to herself as the other puts up a barrier between them every time. Yet, Kirari’s sure, no one saw her like this before. 

“ I’m peeling the skin off your heart. And you’re not making my job any easier, but I’m not complaining. It makes me like you all the more…”

They fight over the check, and Kirari should have expected it. Mary’s too stubborn to let her pay. For her efforts, however, she gets to go through the embarrassing ordeal of having Kirari flip a coin right there and then, in the middle of the restaurant. 

Saotome loses. Of course. 

“I don’t know how you did it.” she says in the car.

“I’m the one who asked you out. It is only fair for me to take care of that.”

“So gallant.” Mary rolls her eyes, scoffing, but she’s relaxing, again She’s almost resting against Kirari’s shoulder. Without remarking it, Kirari lets her get as close as she wants. 

“ It takes patience with you.” she thinks as the streetlight plays with their skin. “ But you’ve already shown that you’re more than worth it.”

፠         ፠        ፠

“You can leave me here!” Saotome’s words were so sudden Kirari almost jolted. In the warmth of the car after the meal, they were both about to fall asleep, and the latter can’t deny her displeasure now that it’s already time to separate. 

“Here?” she asks, glancing from the windows, “But it’s in the middle of the road–”

“You don’t need to see where I live.” mutters Mary. 

“All right then. As you wish.”

“ Even though I already know…”

The car stops, yet Mary’s hand seems to hesitate on the door handle. 

“I guess… I should thank you.” she says, almost too low for the other to hear.

“For what?” asks Kirari. She’s getting better at hiding her amusement. Mary hasn’t noticed just yet, and she’s quite grateful for it. 

“T-Thank you! For the date...”

“The… date?Ah–”

 It takes a moment for Kirari to elaborate, but by then, it’s already too late. “I mean–!” pipes up Saotome at once, her cheeks red in the semidarkness, “For the dinner! It’s clear this wasn’t a date of course…”

“No, wait.” 

The President’s hand is gentle on the other’s thighs. It’s the first time she tries to touch Mary since the beginning of the dinner. This time, Mary squirms and scoffs, yet she doesn’t move. 

“It’s what I wanted. A date, yes.” says Kirari. “I’m the one who should thank you. I truly enjoyed myself.”

Embarrassment and something else. It takes some effort for Mary to turn her face and show her expression, and she shouldn’t be this bashful. Not when Kirari took her first time, and not when she was her first date ever. Hearts are hard to peel though. Even for their owners. 

Mary doesn’t ask her if she’s earnest. She doesn’t ask her “ What are we?”, although the question has been occupying her mind for weeks. 

She turns her face, feels herself glow at Kirari’s smile and before she can think twice about it, her mouth is on her cheek. Her hand pulls on the handle. Fast, she must leave, fast. 

“Ah–”

“See you tomorrow!” says Mary, interrupting the other at once, “Don’t text me when you get home!”

She gets to see Kirari’s floored look, feels herself smirking at it, as she slams the car door shut. 

She’s already regretting that kiss as her steps resound on the concrete and the car’s engine sings.

She regrets it, and she doesn’t know where this will lead them. She doesn’t know what they are . But as the car cuts the night, she’s smiling just as much as Kirari.