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1
She’s a small girl, even for her age; fragile-looking as she clutches her hands in the fabric of the violet cardigan she wears over her uniform, as she curls in on herself in her position sprawled on the floor. “I-I’m sorry,” she says in a high and shaky voice. Despite the obvious weakness her entire form is displaying, Juri can tell that the girl is still making an attempt to hold back her tears. Later, thinking back, she thinks that must have been what managed to touch her heart in a situation that she normally would have simply stayed out of. She’s always appreciated girls who try to be strong.
“Sorry isn’t enough,” one of the girls circled around her announces, crossing her arms. They’re from a few grades above, nine years old and therefore two years older than Juri, although she realises on second glance that she’s nearly as tall as they are. “That was my favourite scarf, and you ruined it! If you want to be forgiven, you should get on your knees and apologise.”
“If you beg forgiveness, we might accept it,” another girl says, hands on her hips.
“I-I—“ The girl on the ground gives a small sob. “I’ll pay you back, or—“
“Don’t worry,” Juri says calmly, not moving from her posture of sitting at a table in the corner of the room as she flips a page of the book in front of her. “Such a tacky scarf can’t be worth much anyway, so I don’t think it’s worth it for you to replace it.”
“A-Arisugawa-san!” The lead girl takes a step back instinctively.
The purple-haired girl’s eyes open wide, and she stares at Juri with such an intense expression of adoration that Juri feels a pang in her chest. Somehow, she feels as if she would do anything if just to get the girl to keep looking at her like that.
Juri stands, closing her book and brushing off her skirt, and folds her hands in front of her, chin high and back perfectly straight. “I think you might be in the wrong place—this is the second grade classroom. Unless you’ve been sent back to take this year again? It wouldn’t surprise me.”
The girl with the ruined scarf makes a sharp, angry little exclamation and starts forward, but stops when she meets Juri’s eyes and looks away. “Huh. Let’s get out of here, girls. She’s pretty stuck-up for a kid, but not worth our time.”
“But the scarf—“ her friend says, holding it out.
“I can afford a new one!” She snaps, and just like that, they’re gone.
Juri walks over to the girl and holds out a hand, helping her up. She stands, brushing off her clothes and holding Juri’s hand for just a moment longer before she lets go, her dainty and feminine fingers brushing against Juri’s already tough and calloused ones. “Thank you—“
Juri swallows. “Arisugawa Juri.”
“Thank you, Juri-san. I’m Takatsuki Shiori. It’s nice to meet you.” Shiori looks up and meets Juri’s eyes, and gives a small, tight smile. “Such disgusting girls, aren’t they?”
The hint of cruelty in her young voice makes Juri nearly shiver, but it’s what keeps her attention, too.
2
To Juri’s surprise, and perhaps her gratification as well, Shiori’s interactions with her don’t stop there. The next week, she tags along after Juri to the bowling alley, hesitantly walking along behind her and clutching the straps of her backpack with her hands as Juri ruthlessly cuts a path through the crowds of people on the street.
“How long have you been bowling?” Shiori asks, sipping at a can of tea as Juri selects a ball from the rack.
“I only really started earlier this year.” Juri hefts a ball in her hands, trying to decide if she likes the feel of it. It’s a little big for her, but she’s not satisfied with just settling with the lightest weight ones anymore. “It’s a lot of fun, though, and I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”
Shiori laughs. “You’re so confident.”
Juri shrugs. “Well, it’s just a hobby. What I really want to do is fence, but I’m too young to get really serious about it yet. Next year, though, they’ll allow me to start competing.”
“I think fencing would match you,” Shiori says with a giggle. “You came to my rescue like a prince, right?”
Juri brushes the hair out of her eyes and tries to hide the smile spreading across her face.
Shiori walks home with her, afterward, and pauses as they’re about to go their separate ways at the crossroads. “Juri-san—would it be okay if we hung out again?”
“It would be fine with me,” Juri says after a brief pause, and quickly realises that she has already learned to love the sight of Shiori’s face lighting up in response.
3
Shiori plays the violin—she discovers this later—and struggles with it. One time, she visits Shiori’s house, which has quickly become almost as familiar as her own over the past few years, and accidentally arrives a few minutes early when Shiori is still having her weekly lesson. Her instructor is patient, and gently corrects Shiori’s finger position over and over, and yet Shiori’s round face is still screwed up with frustration as she tries to hold back her tears. She’s actually not bad, just average, but Juri feels that she understands where Shiori’s frustration comes from when she sees Shiori’s mother watching the lesson with a frown on her face.
It’s summer vacation, and the stifling heat of Shiori’s room makes little beads of sweat drip down Juri’s neck. She sticks her face in front of the portable fan in the floor and sighs in relief as the cold air blows her long curls out of her face.
“She’s so annoying,” Shiori complains, angrily licking at her ice pop. “I mean, my grades aren’t that bad! But she always says I can do better. I’ll have to get a home tutor if I don’t do well next year.”
“Mmm.” Juri finds herself staring, slightly hypnotised, at the shape of Shiori’s lips as they purse around the ice, and shakes her head. “I could tutor you if you want, you know. I don’t mind, really, and it would be more fun than you having to study on your own.”
Shiori bites her lip, and Juri watches, fascinated. “You don’t have to… You’re always having to help me out, Juri-san. I feel so guilty.”
“It’s not a problem,” she says, closing her eyes and letting the cold air of the fan blow over her skin. “I don’t mind spending time with you, after all.”
“You’re so kind, Juri-san.” Shiori plops down next to her in front of the fan, closing her eyes too. “Ah, that feels nice.”
4
February, Shiori sitting next to her at the kotatsu, her head resting on Juri’s shoulder. Their homework is spread across the tabletop. She’s been helping Shiori study for awhile now, and Shiori’s been improving, although Juri has noticed an occasional flash of bitterness in her eyes when she’s explaining something, sometimes.
They’ve finished most of the homework, and are sitting in comfortable silence as they put off finishing the last assignment. Shiori raises her head, suddenly, looks over at Juri.“Hey, I was wondering—have you ever been in love before, Juri-san?”
Juri starts a little. “I don’t—well, no, not really. I don’t think so.”
“You’ve gotten a lot of love letters. I’m so jealous! It must be nice to be popular.”
Juri thinks back to her shoebox with a letter in it every other day, to faceless, nameless boys bowing their heads in front of her and stumbling over their hapless attempts at confessions. To be honest, they all disgust her. Yes, she’s gotten a lot of love letters, but she’s never felt a connection to any of them for a moment.
“I suppose. It’s alright. Sometimes I don’t mind attention, but sometimes it annoys me, really.”
“Ever since you’ve started fencing seriously, you’ve gotten so many admirers.” Shiori sighs. “And you’ve gotten prettier, too. I wonder if I can make myself more appealing too…”
She feels a faint blush stain her cheeks. “I think you’re fine as you are. You’re pretty enough already.”
“Wait, really? Do you really mean it?” Shiori clasps Juri’s hand, staring up hopefully, and Juri feels that strange tightness in her chest that has become all too familiar.
“Yeah, I do.” Juri coughs and looks away. “You’re very pretty. What brings this up, though?”
Shiori releases her hand and leans forward, resting her chin in her hands. “Ah, well, it’s—will you not tell anyone, Juri-san?”
“Of course.”
“I think I’m in love. With Miyamoto-senpai.”
The tightness in her chest gives way to a strange, painful hollowness. “Oh. I see.”
Shiori’s face falls. “Do you think I don’t have a chance? I knew I wasn’t good enough for him.”
“No!” Juri says hastily. “That’s not it. I just—I’m surprised. You’re definitely pretty enough for him, for anyone you—I mean, it’s just—how long have you liked him?”
Shiori’s eyes fill with relief, and Juri is reminded yet again of how mercurial this girl is, how quickly she can switch between cruelty and a surprising tenderness. The sun is setting outside, a pale pink light shining through the window and casting a strange ethereal shade to Shiori’s skin as she stares out at the sunset, her lips slightly parted as she thinks.
“For a while—I don’t know. I saw him give a speech maybe a month ago, at the school assembly, and I thought, wow, how cool!”
Juri briefly recalls Shiori watching her fence at one of her first tournaments, face lit up with excitement as she stood in the sidelines, and the breathy quality of her voice as she handed Juri a towel afterward and said “You’re so cool, Juri-san!”
“And then the other day he talked to me in the library, and he said he admired my violin playing so I—well, I thought I might have a chance.”
The time Juri attended Shiori’s most recent recital—she’d been to all of them, actually, without fail—and given her a bouquet of roses afterward. Orange roses, in the language of flowers, she had realised later, meant—“You played beautifully,” she had told her, and Shiori had smiled gratefully.
“And—Juri-san, Valentine’s day is next week, and I know you’re good at cooking… I’m sorry to ask too much of you, but do you think you could…?”
Her locker stuffed full of chocolates this time last year, and she’d thrown them all out except for the little store-bought package of friendship chocolates Shiori had given her.
“You want to make them yourself? Don’t you usually just buy chocolates for everyone?”
“Well.” Shiori fidgets a little, looks away shyly. “This time is special, after all.”
Juri still has the ribbon from that box of store chocolates saved, and she remembers its place in the drawer of her desk with a pang.
“Of course.” Her voice is flat. “I’ll help you make them. It’s your first love, after all.”
Shiori throws her arms around Juri. “Thank you, Juri-san!” She pulls away with her arms still around Juri’s neck and smiles. “You’re always so kind. I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve a friend as precious to me as you are. If you ever fall in love with someone, I’ll definitely support your happiness too.”
Juri gives a little nod, her throat somehow too tight for any words to come out. The sun’s nearly set now, and the light in the room is a dark, nearly black shade of violet, and it throws Shiori’s face into shadow, only the shine of her eyes visible in the darkness now.
5
“Oh! That’s mean.” Shiori giggles. “Yes, yes, I know. That’s just like you to say, though, senpai.” Her head is resting in Juri’s lap as she holds her mobile phone up to one ear. “No! Really—oh, my. You’re so awful!”
Juri flips the page of the book she’s reading and tries to focus on the text to block out the sound of Shiori’s high-pitched laughter. The words swim in front of her eyes despite her concentration.
“No, I’m not. But hey, senpai, I haven’t seen you in such a long time now that you’re at a different school. I think I’m going to try to take the entrance exam for Ohtori too, so we can be together more. Do you think I can make it?” A pause. “Really? I’m so happy—“
Juri coughs, and Shiori glances up. “Ah, sorry, I have to go! But I’ll talk to you soon. We still have a date this weekend, right?” Another pause. “You’re busy? But you promised me—“ A long pause. “…Yes, I understand. It’s alright as long as I get to talk to you, after all. Bye then.”
She hangs up the phone and buries her face in Juri’s lap. Juri strokes her hair, automatically, mechanically. “Did he cancel again?”
“He said he has to study.” Shiori makes a noise that’s halfway between a sigh and a sob. “Do you think he’s losing interest in me? I’ve tried so hard, but…”
“No, no, definitely not.”
Shiori sits up and leans against Juri, twining their fingers together. “Juri-san, I have to ask you. He said he wants to—um—do certain things…”
Juri feels her face starting to flush hot. “What sort of things?”
“You know.” Shiori fiddles with a piece of her bangs nervously. “And I—well, I love him, so I’m happy that he wants to, but I’m kind of scared. I don’t know what to tell him. I’m afraid if I say we should wait a little longer, then he won’t be interested anymore.”
A pause. Juri looks down at their entwined hands. “Isn’t it wrong to do this kind of thing since you have a boyfriend, Shiori?”
“Huh?” Shiori looks down, following her gaze. “Oh, that—no, of course not. It doesn’t mean anything when it’s two girls, after all.”
“Right, yeah.”
“So what should I do?”
Juri stares up at the ceiling. To be honest, she’s realised by now that she’s horrible at giving love advice, and Shiori probably has as well, but she still keeps asking. “Well. Only do it if you want to. But, don’t if it makes you uncomfortable. I mean, whatever makes you happy.”
“Yeah… I’ll think about it.”
6
A week later: Shiori, crying into her arms on her desk in their empty classroom, Juri hovering uncertainly nearby. “What happened?”
“I—I went to his home to bring him dinner, because he said he was studying and—“ Shiori takes a long, gulping breath of air. “There was another girl in his room, and they were—“
Juri’s silent for a moment. “Which school does he go to, again?”
Shiori’s crying stops for a moment, and she raises her head, the fluorescent lights above shining harshly on her tearstained cheeks. “Ohtori, but why—“
Juri grabs Shiori’s schoolbag, as well as her own, from the floor. “Come on. I’ve been meaning to check out Ohtori’s fencing club for quite awhile.”
6
It’s fortunate that Miyamoto fences as well, really, because it just makes it so easy. She walks into the club room, Shiori trailing behind her uncertainly, carrying Juri’s fencing foil.
They stare at her when she walks in, but she’s used to that. “Excuse me!” She calls, and those who aren’t already staring turn to look then. “Is Miyamoto-san here?”
“Here,” a voice calls, and he steps forward, brushing long black hair out of his eyes. “What’s up?” His eyes fall on Shiori, standing behind Juri like a shadow, and he starts visibly. “Shiori?”
“I challenge you to a duel,” Juri says, her voice icy.
He stares at her for a moment, confused, then laughs. “Right, you’re Shiori’s friend, aren't you? But you’re not from this school either, and you’re still in your uniform. Do you expect to fight like that? Have you even got any experience?”
She stays completely silent, and he shrugs. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter, because non-club members can’t use our equipment.”
“Ah, no worries,” Juri says. “I have my own sword.”
She turns to Shiori, and they face each other for a moment, Juri’s hands closing on the hilt of the foil just above Shiori’s. Shiori looks into her eyes and smiles.
She takes the foil, and whips it up to her face, then out in a salute towards him. “And I think you’ll find that it says in Ohtori’s school handbook that athletic clubs are obligated to accept challengers from other schools if the club’s captain approves. Who is the captain?”
A tall, lanky boy with blue hair steps forward, his arms crossed. “That would be me. Tsuchiya Ruka. What are the conditions of your challenge to him?”
“None,” Juri says simply. “I just want to defeat him, that’s all.”
He raises an eyebrow and then nods. “I’ll allow it.”
Miyamoto huffs out a short, annoyed sigh and holds out his hand. Someone else—a boy with green eyes and brown hair falling in his face—hands him a foil. “All right. Let’s get this over with quickly.”
Juri smiles, and falls into her stance. “En garde.”
7
Later, she remembers fondly the expression on his face as she knocks the foil out of his hand, sending it flying and spinning up into the stands, as he pulls off his mask. Anger, frustration, shame—and fear, the best of all.
However much satisfaction that expression of defeat brings her, however, is nothing compared to what she feels when she looks over to Shiori and sees the cruelly delighted look that twists the girl’s face.
“What are you—“ he stares at her. “This is bullshit. I want another match—“
Juri pulls off her mask as well to look into his eyes for a brief second, and then looks away.
“Next.”
8
The captain—Tsuchiya, wasn’t it?—comes up to her afterward with a smirk on his face. “Not bad. To be honest, that’s the most potential I’ve seen in a middle-schooler in my time as captain, Miss—?”
“Arisugawa Juri.” She smiles slightly. “And thank you.”
“Nice to meet you, Arisugawa.” He grins. “I hope that you’re considering taking the Ohtori entrance exam. I’d enjoy coaching you.”
“I’ll consider it.” She turns away and goes to meet Shiori.
The other girl is back to her usual self, without any traces left of the tears from earlier. “That was so cool, Juri-san! You’re so intimidating. When you were all like, ‘next!’—“ she deepens her voice in an imitation of Juri’s— “He looked so scared right then.”
“He certainly did. He’s very weak.”
“Seeing that look in his eyes when he was defeated…” Shiori smiles, and her eyes are cold. “I loved seeing that expression on his face.”
Juri laughs a little, then. “You’re so sadistic sometimes, Shiori.”
“And you seem like such an S, but you’re really a secret M, Juri-san,” Shiori says with a sly smile. Juri blushes a little.
“Anyway, I hope that your next love goes better.”
“No, no, I’m sworn off boyfriends for awhile, I think.” She sighs and tilts her face upward to the sky. “It can be your turn instead. Did you see that boy with the brown hair? He was staring at you the whole time, and he was really good-looking, too. I’ll help you out if you go for it.”
She tries to recall his face, and can’t.
“Maybe I’ll think about it,” she lies.
9
After the entrance ceremony: Shiori pulls Juri aside, over to the side of one of the courtyards. There’s a few stray sakura blossoms in Shiori’s hair; the trees are in full bloom in the most picturesque way, and Juri thinks briefly that she’s never seen anything at Ohtori be anything short of perfect.
“I have something for you,” Shiori says.
It’s a small package, wrapped in typically violet paper with a lacy ribbon in what she recognises as Shori’s signature style.
“What’s this?”
“A present.”
The paper falls open to reveal a locket; gold, with a rose design on the front. Juri just stares at it for a moment.
“It’s my thanks for all your help with everything. I probably wouldn’t have gotten into this school without your help, and then there was everything else too… well, I just wanted to say thank you.” Shiori looks worried. “Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” Juri says quietly. “Thank you, Shiori.”
Shiori takes the locket from her hand. “Here, let me.” Juri bows her head down obligingly, and Shiori fastens the chain around her neck. As soon as she lets go, there’s a strange sense of weight on her chest.
She looks at Juri and smiles. “Let’s do our best this year, Juri-san.”
The cherry blossoms continue to fall, and Juri has to turn her back to hide the expression of guilt spreading rapidly across her face. She reaches up and touches the unfamiliar shape of the locket on her chest.
“Yeah.”
10
The moment that changes everything is simple. Shiori is walking to class, holding her books to her chest, and as she’s about to turn a corner, she hears her name—“Takatsuki-san.”
She pauses, and peers around a corner. It’s a group of girls in their grade, standing there and talking.
“Takatsuki? The really plain one who always hangs around Arisugawa?”
The perfume of roses is overwhelming.
“Yeah, that one. To be honest, I don’t understand why Arisugawa bothers with her.”
“They’re childhood friends, or something.”
“Oh, is that it? But even for childhood friends, if you just compare them! I’ve been trying to become friends with Arisugawa-san for months, I’m such a big fan of hers… but then she always only cares about that talentless girl!”
“It is annoying,” another girl chimes in. “They’re not similar at all. I don’t get what Takatsuki did to deserve Arisugawa-san’s attention! When we all try so much harder!”
“She probably just pities her,” the first girl says, and they all burst out into laughter.
Shiori feels her hands clenching into fists at her sides.
11
“Did you know? Juri’s in love with someone, but it’s not you.”