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It starts snowing on the first day of school, and that doesn’t even make the list of the top three weirdest things to happen by homeroom.
The first weirdest thing is that Hana shows up late.
“Where is she?” Ichika asks, frowning at the empty desk in front of her. WHERE ARE UUU, she texts, the fifth of similarly-worded messages she’s fired off in the past three minutes. The message marks itself as ✓ READ 7:59 AM, and then the telltale three dots appear. Ichika waits. The three dots disappear.
“Was she always this bad at texting?” Ichika says, tapping out a string of stressed-looking emojis.
“Stop worrying,” Aoi says, from beside her. She’s scratching 'FUCK' on the corner of her desk with a busted pen. “She probably got distracted by a cute baby or something on her way to school. We’ll never see her again.”
“It isn’t like her to be late,” Saaya insists, twisted all the way around in her seat to talk to them. She looks unaffected, but her mechanical pencil is tapping a nervous rhythm against the back of her chair. “Remember that time she accidentally showed up an hour early? On a Saturday?”
“She was late on her first day of freshman year,” Himari, to the right of Aoi, added before going back to quietly reading in her seat.
Ichika darts a look at the front of the classroom. Their teacher’s still preoccupied with pretending not to play Solitaire on his desktop computer, so she pulls her phone out from her sleeve again, types: HAVE U BEEN KIDNAPPED BY ALIENS YES OR NO??
The three dots, again. Ichika waits with bated breath. Finally:
I’m coming. x
Ichika stares at it.
“Did she reply?” Saaya asks, twisting a strand of light blue hair around her finger. “She didn’t reply to me. What’d she say?”
“It’s some kind of alien code,” Ichika says.
Haruka Haruno, who had invited herself into the group's conversation, peers at the screen over Ichika’s shoulder from behind. “Whoa. Who hurt her?”
Which is when the second weird thing happens: Hana slinks in through the classroom door, hood of her oversized black sweatshirt pulled low over her head, the chunky soles of her combat boots dragging against the floor.
“Whoa,” Aoi echoes. “Who hurt you?”
Hana doesn’t say anything, just gets into her seat in front of Ichika. Their teacher doesn’t even notice. She starts taking books out of her bag, which has undergone a makeover with various pins and patches: skulls and broken hearts, Sanrio Kuromi, Marceline the Vampire Queen, and bands she doesn't recognize. It was like Hot Topic chewed her up and spit her back out.
Ichika and Aoi exchange a glance. This calls for delicate measures.
Slowly, Ichika reaches forward, and pokes Hana’s back with her pencil.
Hana turns around. “What?” Her eyes are rimmed with heavy black liner. Her bangs, which she had desperately tried to grow out over the last 3 years, were cut once again but this time in a choppy fringe that covered most of her left eye. "I told you I was coming.”
“Hana,” Ichika says very seriously, still poking with her pencil. “Have you been possessed by an alien consciousness? Blink if yes.”
Hana swats her away. “I’m fine.”
“I like the new look,” Haruka says cheerfully. “You look so cool! Like you’re gonna beat me up for my lunch money! What do you think, Saaya?”
Saaya is staring. Eyes wide and startled. At Haruka's question, though, she snaps out of it, shakes her head.
“It looks, uhh, really good,” she squeaks out, and then, clearing her throat: “You look really good.”
“Seriously?” Ichika demands. “This is the girl who cried just this summer when she couldn't catch a Magikarp at the park! Come on. Did you secretly join a gang? Are you on the run? Did you have to change your identity? I won’t tell, I promise!”
It’s no use. Hana has returned to furiously unloading supplies from her bookbag. The tips of her ears, poking out from under her hood, are flushed red.
Weird, Ichika thinks, narrowing her eyes. That makes three.
But it’s Junior year. Anything may as well happen, right?
Like their older friends Akira and Yukari, in their final year of college, deciding to get engaged after all this time. Or Haruka, who went on extended vacation to Miami while Ichika was stuck making smoothies for minimum wage and returned an inch and a half taller, breaking their same-height-streak they've had since they were 12. Or Aoi, who had gotten a couple of friends from middle school to start a band with her. One moment they were all pimply preteens hanging out during their after school cooking club, secretly filming bad Dubsmash videos, and now even Hana is growing up.
Ichika sighs, chin propped up on her palm, idly twirling a pencil in her hand. She’s the only one still stuck in the same place, it seems, while everyone else is discovering themselves, or love, or Evanescence. It’s so unfair.
The screen in the corner of the classroom flickers to life. After a truly painful animation of the school’s logo, complete with bouncing PowerPoint transitions, the feed cuts to two girls, one blinking into the camera.
“Good morning, Miracle High,” the first girl says, a beat late, sitting straight-backed with a neutral expression on her face. “Welcome back to another school semester. I’m Rin Natsuki, and I’ll be one of your senior student announcers for the year."
The other girl grins straight into the camera. “What’s up!” Rin’s smile wavers, but stays strong. “I’m Nozomi Yumehara, your trusty co-announcer!” She fist pumps and lets out the most annoying cheer Ichika had ever heard. “Together, you can count on us for all the information you’ll need to survive this year! Let's go Class of 2017!”
“Thank you, Nozomi,” Rin says, not once breaking eye contact with the camera. “First, a warm welcome to our freshman class of 2020! And, second; a congratulations to senior student Hibiki Hojo, who has become a final candidate for a prestigious scholarship to the Germany Academy of the Musical Arts.”
“Way to go!” Nozomi breaks into applause that echoes a bit too loudly on her mic, sending a bout of grating feedback through the school, then slaps her hands onto the desk in front of her. The sound the mic picks up the sounds like thunder. “Good luck, Hibiki—we’re all rooting for you!”
“Yo, when did Nozomi get a nose piercing?” Aoi whispers in Ichika’s ear. “It looks good.”
Ichika pouts down at her desk, still sulking. “Should I get a nose piercing?”
Aoi stares at her. “Are you crazy?”
“Next, a reminder that soccer tryouts are tomorrow in the gym before school, bright and early at 7 AM.” Rin says. A glint enters her eye. “Let’s bring our girls to victory this season!” A flash of teeth. Ichika shivers.
“And don’t forget that the annual talent show is back on this year,” Nozomi chimes in.
Ichika perks up. Yes! The talent show! Her time to shine! It had originally started as just a silly thing for her to perform. Not quite a joke but for a laugh nonetheless. But then she realized she really has fun up there.
But Nozomi’s still talking. “Sadly, our music teacher is away on maternity leave, so this year’s auditions will be overseen by a junior student volunteer instead. In fact, she’s here now to give you all some more info on the talent show. Take it away, Ciel!”
Ichika freezes.
“Ciel?” Her brain hisses. “Did she just say Ciel ?”
On screen, a girl in a blazer and skirt—ridiculous, Miracle High doesn’t even have uniforms—steps into frame. A swish of her long platinum hair, silky smooth in a flawless half up-do. Ciel looks into the camera and gives a blinding smile.
Ichika’s pencil snaps in half in her hand.
And as if on cue, outside, the first flakes begin to fall.
Remembering the Class of 2016 @miraclehigh
When Nagisa Misumi and Honoka Yukishiro won Prom Queens in an almost unanimous vote from the senior class! 👏👏👏🎉🥍❤️🧪
3 Retweets 9 Likes
TOP FORM @sakisaki
Replying to @miraclehigh
i think u guys are forgetting we had a school wide walkout because you refused to give them the crowns at prom :/
20 Retweets 58 Likes
In the cafeteria, Ichika pokes at one of the fries on her plate with her finger. The fry wobbles. She pokes it again. It wobbles. She pokes it again. It wobbles.“ Heh."
“What’s wrong with her?” Himari whispers.
"I think this is normal for her,” Aoi doesn't bother with the volume of her voice. "Dude, what's wrong?"
Ichika snaps her head up. “What’s wrong? Nothing’s wrong! I’m fine!” As if to prove her point, she snatches up the fry and eats it. “Mmmm. Fries.”
Aoi points a finger at her. “Something’s up with you, I can tell. You’ve been acting weird all week!" She narrows her eyes. "You haven't asked me to help you test some awful recipe in like, 4 days."
Ichika only grins wider. “It’s nothing!” she singsongs through her gritted teeth.
“Liar!” Aoi roars and lunges forward, planting her palms firmly on the lunch table. Up close and personal, and stares straight into Ichika’s eyes. Oh crap. Ichika tries to hold them open for as long as she can, but in the end, she blinks first.
“Fine, uncle, uncle." Ichika says, furiously blinking away the moisture in her eyes. “It’s no big deal, alright? I’m just thinking. About things.”
“Never a good sign,” Aoi jokes, plopping down back onto the bench.
“Things?” Himari prompts.
Ichika scuffs the toes of her shoes back and forth against the floor. “Things... like... the talent show,” she mumbles.
“What! You’re nervous about the talent show? You love dancing in the talent show!” Himari is holding her hands to her chest, gasping in horror. “Don’t tell me—you’re not participating this year?”
“No, I am,” Ichika says. “I just... I just don’t see why she has to be involved with it.”
She immediately stuffs another handful of fries into her mouth to avoid taking any more questions. Everyone else follows her gaze to one of the bright shiny posters taped up on the cafeteria wall. A gleaming smile, a glassy stare: VOTE CIEL KIRAHOSHI FOR STUDENT COUNCIL PRESIDENT (AGAIN)!
“Ciel?” Aoi says. “I thought it was kinda weird she was in charge of auditions, being a junior, but it kinda makes sense, I guess. She’s been student council president for two years, hasn’t she?”
Saaya hums, joining the conversation. "I'm not surprised, she was always class leader when we were in elementary school,"
"It was annoying then, too."
“I heard she used to be a prodigy pȃtissière,” Haruka chimes in.
“I heard she lived in Paris her whole life. As a famous teen model.” Hana adds darkly, sketching away and not bothering to look up.
“Ah! I heard that too!” Saaya gasps.
Ichika rapidly swallows her food so she can keep this from going on any further. “Why do you all know so much about her! What are you, obsessed?”
Aoi and Himari blink at her.
“We’re not obsessed,” Himari says. “She just naturally grabs a lot of attention, doesn’t she?”
“She does,” Ichika says morosely.
“And she’s so pretty,” Haruka sighs, clasping her hands to her chest.
“She is,” Ichika agrees sadly.
Aoi peers at her. “So what’s up? You guys friends or something?”
“No,” Ichika says, glum. “She’s my mortal enemy.”
Even Hana is staring at her now. Judgmentally, from over the top of her sandwich, which, okay, if she’s eating tuna salad from the cafeteria, she’s got nothing to be acting superior about.
“Ciel?” Aoi repeats. “Did she do something? Did she say something mean? Oh my god, did she pretend to be your friend in middle school just because your parents are rich and you live in a big mansion until she got bored because you never wanted to throw parties and dropped you like a hot potato and spread a rumor around the whole school that you had mono?”
“That’s weirdly specific,” Haruka says.
“Hold up,” Hana says, slowly. “Are you, by any chance, jealous of Ciel?”
“No!” Ichika knocks over her juicebox in her vehemence.
Hana squints at her. “Then... do you want to be her friend?”
Ichika can feel her face burning. She sips furiously from her juicebox, and keeps on sucking even when there’s nothing left.
“No,” Ichika says when she has to eventually come up for air, but it's too weak and too late. She can see the light of misunderstanding dawn upon all three of her friends’ faces, one after another. Like a set of traffic lights. Green, yellow, red for STOP THINKING RIGHT NOW BEFORE YOU GET THE WRONG IDEA.
“It’s not like that!” Ichika yells, making an X with her arms. “Why would I want to be her friend, anyway? She’s Ciel. She’s too pretty, too nice, too good at everything! She doesn’t even know me!”
“Poor baby,” Haruka coos. “Don’t be shy! She'd love you. It’s impossible not to. You’re like a Disney princess. Talking animals would probably want to follow you everywhere.”
Ichika slaps her palms against her reddening cheeks. “I don’t want talking animals!” She's lying, that sounds great.
“Really? Not even bunnies? Baby bunnies? Tiny adorable baby bunnies?”
“A hamster!”
“Or a little duck,”
“A lion,” Aoi pipes up dreamily.
Hana wrinkles her nose. “You sure about that one?”
Ichika waves her hands wildly. “Hello! We’re talking about my problem here!”
“Which is what, exactly?” Aoi asks, shifting so she could sit with her foot on the bench.
“That Ciel isn’t a talking baby bunny,” Haruka says, pinching Ichika’s cheeks.
“I’m telling you,” Ichika says, through the stretch of her cheeks. “She’s gonna see me make a fool of myself at the talent show auditions and we’re gonna be enemies for life. I’m gonna have to move schools and change my name and cut my bangs. You’ll see.”
“That’s the spirit,” Aoi cheers and steals the last of the fries from Ichika’s plate.
Written on the wall of the last stall on the second floor girl’s bathroom:
ERIKA WAZ HERE! FOLLOW UR DREAMZ FUCK DA HATERZZ (☆▽☆)
CLASS OF 2017 4EVRRRRR
^ dont write on the bathroom stalls its property damage :)
^^ WHAT R U DOIN THEN DUMBASS? <(￣︶￣)> HA EXACTLY
The truth is, Ciel didn’t do anything. She didn’t say anything mean. She didn’t even pretend to be Ichika’s friend just so she could use her for her rich status until she got bored at the lack of parties and dropped her like a hot potato and spread a rumor around the whole school that she had mono.
No, what happened was way worse than that.
The first time Ichika met Ciel, it was winter.
Back then, Ichika was only a freshman. So she actually ran when she was late for school. It wasn’t such a smart idea, though she didn’t realize it until she was already skidding on the ice. Her bag went flying, her arms flailing. Her decidedly short and inadequate life— too much time spent burning sweets, C- on her last math quiz, unfinished visual novels, half-eaten strawberry shortcake in the fridge —flashed before her eyes in a whirlwind of snow and sky.
A warm grip around her arm.
“Omigosh. Are you okay?”
Ichika stared up at her savior. A fall of long, glossy hair; green eyes wide in concern. Her lips rosy pink, cheeks flushed in the cold.
Snow was falling down all around them. Like a scene out of a cliché shoujo manga. Or maybe a forewarning of disaster.
“Um,” Ichika said. "Thank you."
Then she realized the position they were in. Ciel, with a delicate but surprisingly strong grip, was holding Ichika upright at an angle. Their faces were inches apart and in a moment Ichika would never, ever admit to anyone, she found out Ciel smelled really good. Like soft, flaky pastries and sweet, sugary fruit. She yelped, scrambled to stand upright, all while shoving Ciel away.
“Hahaha,” Ichika wished she could disappear. “I’m so clumsy.” She had an urge to pull the drawstrings of her coat taut, hiding her face in her oversized pink puffy hood forever.
In the distance, the school bell rang. Ichika seized upon it like an escape route.
“Well, bye!” Ichika made a run for it. Clearly, she hadn’t learned anything from her near-brush with a concussion.
There was a far greater threat to avoid, after all.
“Wait! Excuse me,” Ciel called after her. “Is this your phone charm? I think it fell off.” She held up a tiny, glittery Sailor Moon charm, dangling between dainty, French-tipped fingers.
“I’VE NEVER SEEN THAT BEFORE IN MY LIFE,” Ichika shouted.
Ciel blinked.
Ichika blinked.
“Oh,” Ciel said. “Okay.”
And then she pocketed it.
Ichika’s mind short-circuited.
“Um,” Ichika said.
Ciel smiled at her, which wasn’t a fair move to pull when Ichika was still trying to think of a way to ask for the charm back. Like, oh, I think that belongs to my good friend Aoi. Aoi, you know her? Loud, big hair, kind of looks like she bites? Yeah, her taste in anime is sooo entry level. Now can I please just take that back so I can throw it at her head .
Ciel walked away.
Ichika walked into a snowbank.
That winter was the city’s worst ever recorded blizzard.
Until now, that is.
WATCH: ‘Soul Believer’ COVER by WILD AZUR
80k views 16k likes 5k dislikes
Comments:
I just know ayane misaki is shaking omgg
Woooooah this is so good esp 3:01 the guitar is craaaaazy
THESE GUYS GO TO MY SCHOOL!!
Excellent cover! Someone should show this too Ganache
HOPE YOU GUYS PLAY LIVE ONCE THE BLIZZARDS STOP!!!!!!!! 2:32! FAVE!!!!
“Meteorologists are calling this the freak storm of the century,” Rin says on the screen. “We haven’t had snowfall this early in the year since... well, ever.”
“Better break out your gloves and scarves!” Nozomi says, and then turns to her co-announcer. “Hey, Rin, aren’t you glad for this weather?”
Rin blinks slowly, caught in mid-shuffle of her announcement papers. “Why?”
“Because you’re a snow angel,” Nozomi says without skipping a beat.
A long pause. They stare at each other, Nozomi's smile still plastered on her face.
“Um,” Rin says. “Tomorrow’s lunch special is mac and cheese?”
At her locker, Ichika sucks in a breath, blows it back out again. Her bangs fly up. She nods determinedly at her reflection in the tiny strawberry-shaped mirror taped to the back of her locker, and slams it shut.
Someone flicks her one of her pigtails. She turns around to see Mirai, sauntering away down the hall in the midst of the after-school rush.
“Break a leg!” Mirai calls over her shoulder. “Remember your magic power!”
Ichika cups her hands around her mouth. “I WILL!”
But her smile fades fast when she stares down the door of the auditorium. Relax, she tells herself. You’ve auditioned for the talent show so many times, by now. You’ve practiced your routine enough to perform it in your sleep. What’s so scary about it, now?
She imagines Ciel watching her, eyes tracing every step, every spin on the stage, and grimaces.
“Stop it,” she huffs out loud, and pushes open the door.
As she’s waiting in line backstage with the rest of the other candidates—a group of girls in color-coordinated outfits, two magicians eyeing each other in animosity, Aoi and her band—she starts to doubt whether or not Ciel is even here. Maybe she just imagined the announcement in a fever dream. It seems like something she would do. She puts on one of her brightest smiles to cheer herself up, and the student volunteer in charge of watching the line casts her a wary look, blowing a shiny pink bubble with her gum.
Her phone buzzes. It’s from Haruka:
so happy for you omg 😭
WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT I HAVEN’T EVEN PERFORMED YET!!
not that silly, can’t believe you’re finally realizing your dream of meeting Ciel in person
I’M NEVER TALKING TO YOU AGAIN!!!!!!
love you too 😚😚💗💕💕
“Next,” says the student volunteer, popping her bubble, and Ichika glances up from her phone to realize that there’s nobody left standing before her. She’s next.
“Coming right up!” Ichika chirps, forgetting her own plight for a moment. When it hits her again the smile drops from her face so fast the student volunteer visibly startles. Ichika pastes the smile back on, but it only seems to disturb her further, edging backward and away. Great. That’s got to bode well for her audition. Ichika sighs, takes another deep breath, and plunges forward through the wings of the stage to her doom.
Her footsteps echo loudly against the floor, taking her to center stage. The auditorium is empty, save for the front row, where a lone figure sits. Blonde hair perfectly cascading over her shoulders. Fancy blouse and pleated skirt. Sweet smile on her face.
It feels like Ichika’s swallowed a butterfly. Or maybe a whole flock of birds.
“It is you,” Ichika blurts.
Ciel blinks at her. “Excuse me?”
Ichika’s face burns. “I didn’t say anything!”
Ciel arches an eyebrow. “Right,” she says. A clearing of her throat. “Could you introduce your name, your grade, and the routine you’ll be auditioning with, please?”
Straight to business, then. Not that there’s anything else that would be happening here. Ichika’s traitorous palms are sweating. She wipes them surreptitiously on her dress. “My name's Ichika Usami, I’m a junior, I'm going to dance,” she rattles off, the corners of her mouth pointed perfectly upward. Perhaps a bit too perfectly. Ciel is eyeing her with a look not unlike that of the terrified volunteer Ichika’d left backstage. She bites her lip, racks her brain for something to make her seem less intense, more approachable. “Um, I’m bisexual?”
Ciel’s pen pauses over her notepad. “Sorry?”
Ichika darts her gaze around desperately. “Music, start!”
The music, thankfully, starts, launching Ichika straight out of disaster and into the steps she knows by heart like a fine-tuned Pavlovian reaction. She tries to lose herself as best as she can in the rhythm, to concentrate on the click of her heels against the stage, but the spotlight’s got nothing on Ciel’s focused gaze, quietly burning like a candle, and Ichika’s the melting stub of wax, or else a moth, flitting around her in circles on the stage. The speakers wail and Ichika flings out her arms, wonders if Ciel still smells like sugar.
When the song ends, she holds her ending pose as long as she can, arms thrust out in the air, chest heaving, smile straining on her face.
The scratch of pen against paper.
“Okay,” Ciel says, and then, a little lower, almost a mumble, like Ichika wasn’t intended to catch it: “Very… cute."
Ichika’s head spins.
“Thank you,” Ciel says, looking up from her notepad. “That’ll be all. The results will be out in a few days.”
“Thank you,” Ichika grits out through her teeth. Spins around and somehow makes it off the stage, and out the door.
Outside, the snowstorm is in full blast.
Dear Diary,
I’m declaring war on Ciel.
Love, Ichika 🍓
“This week’s soccer game was postponed due to the weather.” Rin narrows her eyes at the camera. “Again. Of course, this doesn’t mean practice is canceled, so all of you better show up on the field after school today. The snow’ll give us a real edge against our next opponents.” She sighs. “Whenever that will be.”
“That’s too bad,” Nozomi says, swaddled in a thick magenta scarf and sweater beside her, “because you’re a real keeper.”
“Actually, I’m a forward,” Rin says, her face utterly blank. But a corner of her mouth twitches up.
Nozomi misses it, if her groan is any indication. “That’s not what I—okay. Anyway. Moving on. Reminder to all students that there is to be absolutely no snowball fighting on the school premises, no matter how funny the look on your friend’s face is when you nail them in the back of the head.” She smiles wistfully, gazing into the distance as though lost in deep memory. Rin seems to kick her under the desk, and she snaps back out of it. “Right. No snowballs. Oh, and one more thing: the results for the upcoming talent show will be out tomorrow! So to all our talented Miracles waiting out there, you’ve got that to look forward to!”
Ichika is not looking forward to anything. Quite the contrary, in fact.
“She said CUTE,” Ichika says, slamming her fists on the table. “Can you believe that?”
Across the table, Tsubomi hums noncommittally. Keeps sketching in her book.
“She didn’t say it was spectacular, or showstopping, or even good. She said it was cute. What’s that supposed to mean!”
They’re in the art room. Technically, Tsubomi is the only one who’s supposed to be there, as a senior working on her final art portfolio. But Ichika always likes coming here, for the crayons and paints they’ve got handy for stress relief, and also for Tsubomi, the greatest conversationalist Ichika’s ever met. Ichika doesn’t often hang out with seniors, but Tsubomi is different. She’s sweet and smart and doesn't treat Ichika like a baby. Yeah, she mostly just sits there and ignores Ichika, turning the peaceful, quiet atmosphere everybody else probably comes here for on its head, but she doesn’t kick her out, either, which is the most Ichika can ask for.
“I mean, who says that?” Ichika clutches at her face. “Who would just, like, say that to another person? Was she trying to kill me? I haven’t done anything to deserve that! I’m innocent!”
“Maybe it was something you said,” Tsubomi suggests. Her voice is low, every syllable slow and soft. It’s like listening to a warm, wise oracle of truth. “Have you thought of that?”
Ichika thinks back to the approximately 1.5 conversations she’s had with Ciel by now. It isn’t a pleasant thought. “Ridiculous,” she says. “A talent show judge should stay neutral! Impartial! Unbiased to the conversational skills of the contestant!”
“Or,” Tsubomi says, dragging the word out long and deliberate, “maybe it was something you didn’t say.”
Ichika freezes. “Huh? What are you talking about?”
Tsubomi shrugs. “I dunno,” she says, returning to her sketchbook. “Just wondering why you’re telling me all this, and not her.”
Ichika blanches. She imagines it—marching up to Ciel, opening her mouth. That’s about as far as she gets into the fantasy: her standing there with her mouth open, Ciel standing there waiting, a patron saint of patience. She raps on her own head to try and get the vision moving forward, but it’s stuck like a frozen TV screen. Something is wrong with the hardware, evidently.
“Tsubomi, you’ve got to help me,” Ichika pleads, clutching Tsubomi's arm. “You’re a senior. You’re old and mature and whatever. You’re experienced with these things, right?”
“With dating?” Tsubomi speaks up, still focused on her drawing. “Sorry, I haven’t met anyone special yet.”
“Really?” Ichika says, narrowing her eyes. “But you’re, like, the dream girl. No one’s confessed to you yet in an embarrassing display in front of your locker?” Then the context of the conversation sinks in. Ichika’s mouth drops open. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, DATING?”
Tsubomi sets down her pencil and lifts up her sketchbook to show Ichika the drawing she’s been working on. It’s a doodle of Ichika, her eyes screwed up tight and her tiny fists flailing, jumping up into the air. An arrow is shot straight through her heart, labeled Ciel in neat letters.
“You’re evil,” Ichika gasps in realization.
Tsubomi's eyes crinkle up into half moons.
Ichika jumps to her feet. “You’ve defiled the purity of the sacred art room with all your dating talk,” she declares. Her voice cracks embarrassingly on the word dating, but she forges on. “I can never come back here again. Goodbye.”
Tsubomi waves at her on her way out, which is when it occurs to Ichika that maybe this was her plan for getting rid of her from the beginning. Maybe she isn't as sweet as she thought.
Ichika shudders. Seniors.
2016 TALENT SHOW FINAL RESULTS, Page 1
AISAKI, Emiru; AMOUR, Lulu: Duet
WILD AZUR: Band Performance
AONO, Miki; HIGASHI Setsuna; MOMOZONO, Love; YAMABUKI, Inori: Dance Group
HANAMI, Kotoha: Magic
OMORI, Yuko: Singing
KURUMI, Erika: Comedy
USAMI, Ichika: Dance Solo
KASUGANO, Urara: Singing
KUROKAWA, Ellen: Guitar
An early snowfall does have its perks, once you get used to the roads of slush and the radio channels deciding to confuse the entire world by playing holiday music before Halloween’s even close to rolling around. For one, the shops are all scrambling to bring in their winter lines, meaning Ichika snags a ton of cute fall pieces to wear next year for a steal. Also, nobody wants to buy overpriced, psuedo-healthy smoothies in this weather, so Ichika can usually spend her shifts pretending to sweep the floors while her coworker Sora Harewataru plays phone games behind the counter. Not bad for a September that has the nerve to turn dark outside at 4 o’clock in the afternoon.
“Yo, Ichika,” Sora says. She’s wearing fuzzy rainbow socks that end high above her winter boots and theres a pencil tucked behind her ear. “Remember that time you missed your shift and I covered for you by telling the manager your pet rabbit died?”
Ichika pauses in the middle of lip syncing into her broom handle like a microphone. “What do you need?”
“Why do you think I need anything? I’m just saying. Anyway, something came up this weekend and I was wondering if you could cover my shift for me. Thanks so much, you’re the best!”
Ichika eyes her suspiciously. “Why, what’s this weekend?”
“Nothing,” Sora says, not looking up from her phone game, but she’s such a bad liar, her entire mouth twitches like it’s allergic to itself. Ichika stalks over with her broom, leans across the counter and stares.
“Ugh, you ruined my combo! Okay, fine!” Sora slams her phone down, crosses her arms. “I’ve got a date or whatever.”
Ichika shrieks loud enough to wake the dead, including any fictitious dead pets. “WHAT! But you’re a baby!”
"I'M 15." Sora throws a plastic lid at Ichika’s head. “You’re so annoying! See if I ever lie for you again!”
“Sora, you get back here,” Ichika says, all but jumping onto the counter, broomstick still clasped in hand. “When did this happen? Who is it? How old are they? What are their socials?”
Sora, to her credit, puts on quite a chase around the empty shop and doesn’t give up a single lick of information, no matter how hard Ichika wheedles. Since when had she built up an immunity to Ichika’s charms, Ichika wonders. And besides—Sora is a freshman, no matter the fearlessness with which she faces their manager or a demanding customer or the world. Ichika was the one to train her when she started working, now Sora practically runs the place. Everyone is growing so fast! Even winter has come early! It isn’t supposed to be like this!
Is it?
The ring of the bell on the door.
“Welcome,” Ichika says automatically, putting her customer service smile back on as she spins around on her heel, and then just keeps on spinning.
“Uhhhh,” Sora says. “I can help you over here?”
“Thanks,” says Ciel fucking Kirahoshi, shaking the snow from her hair like a real-life shampoo commercial. Ichika gets caught up in watching and almost trips over herself. Sora shoots her a look—it could read either are you okay or are you having a seizure; Ichika chooses to believe in the first—as she takes the order. Ciel glances in her direction, once, and Ichika immediately goes back to sweeping the floor. Spotless as it is.
“Hi,” Ciel says. Ichika is still attacking a spot on the floor that’s probably just part of the tile pattern, so she almost misses when she says: “It’s Ichika, right?”
Ichika whips her head up. Sora is working the smoothie machine. Ciel is waiting by the counter, head tilted slightly, looking straight at her.
“From the auditions,” Ciel says. “I remember you.” She smiles. “I’m Ciel.”
“I know,” Ichika says.
Behind the counter, Sora's eyebrows shoot up. The smoothie machine whirs faster.
“I mean, uh,” Ichika says. “Yeah. I remember you, too.” She’s gripping the broomstick so tight she may as well be strangling it. “Um! Nice to see you!”
Beyond all belief, Ciel is somehow still smiling. Brighter than before even. The apples of her cheeks are pink from the cold, or perhaps the temperature change to the warm store. “I really liked it.”
“What?”
“Your performance. It was wonderful. I’m excited to see it in the talent show."
“Really?” Ichika feels like she’s watching the scene unfold on a screen rather than living it. This is the part where she would chuck popcorn at the screen, griping with Aoi over the sloppiness of the script.
"Ah... wow. I mean, thank you! It means a lot!” This is where Aoi would start imitating the protagonist’s nervous laughter, and then they would probably stop the movie and doom scroll Twitter instead. Come on, Ichika; something genuine. Something real. “I’m not the best at dance, but it’s really fun!”
Ciel shrugs. “It was refreshing, among all the aspiring singers we had sign up.” A hint of teeth, then, in her smile. “I thought you did perfectly fine.”
“Cute?” Ichika says without thinking.
“Sorry?”
“One medium Honey Fruit Dream!” Sora announces, plopping the smoothie on the counter with a thud. “That’ll be $8.79!”
Ciel’s smile wavers. Ichika’s heart goes out to her. It’s practically highway robbery.
“Thanks,” Ciel says, and pulls out her wallet.
Ichika drops the broom.
There, hanging off Ciel's wallet: Usagi's winking face, pointer finger aimed straight at her.
“You,” Ichika says.
Ciel turns to her again. “Me?”
Ichika tries again. “That.”
“What?”
Is that a flicker of—something, some emotion suspiciously close to amusement—on her face? Her lips give a slight tremble, like she’s forcing herself to keep her straight expression.
Ichika narrows her eyes. The flicker disappears. Ciel’s polite smile is perfectly even, wiped clear of any clues. There is only the slight tilt of her head, waiting, expectant.
“Nothing,” Ichika mumbles. “Sorry.”
“Oh,” Ciel says. The smile is gone.
Ciel puts her wallet back in her purse, takes her smoothie. She’s not even wearing any gloves, Ichika thinks petulantly. Her fingers are gonna freeze. Who gets a smoothie in this weather, anyway?
“Okay.” A pause. “I’ll see you around, then.”
The bell rings, again. A brief burst of winter wind, and then the door is closing behind her.
Ichika sinks into one of the stools at the juice bar and sighs.
Sora is waiting for her, leant across the counter in an eerie reversal of their earlier positions. “Who was that?”
“You don’t know Ciel Kirahoshi? Our student council president? God, Sora, it’s like you don’t care about the state of our school at all.”
Sora stares at her. “Uh... ’kay.”
Ichika sighs, again. A wave of dizziness has come upon her. She feels like an 18th-century heroine, ready to faint at the first sign of adversity. Aoi always hates watching period dramas, though, so Ichika doesn’t have any experience that can help her now.
“Does this mean you’ve got connections?” Sora asks. “Can we get more pizza lunch days? Also, when’s the school gonna build more bathrooms? The one on the second floor is always crowded. What’s up with that?”
Outside, the snowstorm has already swallowed up any traces of Ciel. There’s nothing to even show that she was ever here, except the dollar she left in the tip jar. She lets Sora keep it, and sweeps up the last of the snow tracked in from the floors.
Overheard at Miracle High @overheardmiracle
Heard at freshman lunch:
“Do you think this freak weather will ever go away?”
“It has to! I had so many cute outfits I wanted to wear!”
5 Retweets 20 Likes
“Hey, Miracles! Before you all get out for the weekend, just a reminder that last-minute talent show tickets can still be purchased on the school website, or at the door. Everyone's looking forward to the show, so don't miss out!” Nozomi winks into the camera. “Hey, Rin. Are you a spotlight?”
“Why,” Rin says, not even looking up from her papers. “Because I shine so bright?”
Nozomi’s mouth opens and closes like a fish.
“I was gonna say, because you’re really hot.” She shoots a finger gun at her. “But that too.”
Rin snorts, wrinkling her nose. “Mine is way more inspired.”
Nozomi looks offended. “But mine gets the point across way faster!”
Rin just shakes her head sadly. “Oh, Nozomi. You’re slipping.”
Nozomi’s mouth drops open in outrage, just moments before a PowerPoint transition takes the screen to a slide advertising a student discount at Panera Bread.
That’s all Ichika sees before she’s hurtling out the school doors, running for the bus.
“Wait!” she shouts, sprinting through the snow. “Wait for me!”
The bus, miraculously, waits for her. She clambers on board sweaty and cold at the same time, which is the worst feeling she’s ever experienced, probably, and sinks into the first empty seat she sees, still panting for breath.
“Are you okay?”
Oh, no. This is the worst feeling she’s ever experienced. The slow, dawning horror as she looks up, and realizes just who she’s sitting next to. The bus has already lurched into motion, so it’s far too late to make a break for it.
“Do you want some water?” Ciel asks, and starts unzipping her bag, as though she’s going to offer Ichika her water bottle. Ichika almost has a heart attack at the thought, and has to frantically wave her hands at her, shaking her head.
“I’m fine!” Ichika wheezes. “Or at least, I will be!”
Or at least—she would be, if she weren’t huffing and puffing next to Ciel, sitting pretty and poised in her mindful concern. Graceful, almost like a swan, but a swan was too normal of an animal for someone like Ciel. She'd be something fantastical, like an elegant unicorn. Which would make Ichika a baby bunny, probably, a ball of fur struggling to jump.
“You sure?” Ciel asks, the line of her brow skeptical, and Ichika nods up and down, a smile on her face that she can’t feel.
A few minutes pass by in unnerving not-quite silence, like the dripping of a tap. Ichika is hyper aware of every movement: Ciel brushing her hair behind her ear, turning to look out the window, shifting in her seat. Finally, when Ichika can’t take it anymore, she turns to Ciel at her side.
“I’m really not as out of shape as I seem,” Ichika bursts out, right as Ciel says, “You should dress warmer.”
They blink at each other, equally flustered.
“What?” Ichika says.
Ciel coughs. “Even though it’s only September, it’s snowing outside. You should dress warmly.”
“I’m warm!” Ichika protests.
Ciel raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “Your ears are bright red.”
“That’s—” Ichika shuts up. “You’re the one not even wearing gloves!”
Ciel startles. “Gloves?” She looks down at her bare palms, shrugs. “That’s what pockets are for.”
“Unacceptable,” Ichika insists, slipping a hand out of one of her mittens. She reaches her hand out before Ciel can realize anything, closes it around Ciel’s wrist. “See! You’re cold as ice!” She takes the mitten and pulls it over Ciel's hand.
“What’s the point of this?” Ciel says. “Now we’ve both got one cold hand.”
“But we’ve also both got one warm hand,” Ichika says.
Ciel is staring at her, eyes wide in surprise. But her mouth is doing something funny. Ichika stares in dull shock: Ciel is almost always smiling, whenever Ichika sees her, but this is the first time Ichika’s heard her laugh. It’s… loud. A guffaw, followed by a serious of chuckles. Ichika wants to listen forever.
“I can’t argue with that logic,” Ciel says, and she flicks Ichika’s forehead with her newly mittened hand.
“Ow!” Most of the blow was cushioned by the wool, but Ichika screws up her face anyway. “What was that for?”
“Nothing.” Ciel smiles, innocent.
They’re not even friends. They don’t even know each other. They shouldn’t be joking around like this. Ichika chews at the inside of her cheek, squashes the nervous flutter of her chest. Turns to peer at Ciel, out of the corner of her eye. The girl next to her wearing one fluffy hot pink mitten, at odds against her matching coat and skirt which were dripping in soft, cool pastels.
“Why do you always look at me like that?”
Ichika startles. “What?”
Ciel is still recovering from her fit of laughter. “I said, why do you always look at me like that?”
“Like what? I don’t look at you like anything! I don’t look at you at all!”
Ciel gives her a once over. Ichika expects further argument, but to her surprise, it doesn’t come.
“Okay,” Ciel says instead, and looks away.
Ichika panics. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. But how was it supposed to go, exactly? She slips her phone out of her pocket, taps out a message with her non-mittened hand: SOS can u be arrested for looking at somebody
Her phone buzzes a few minutes later: ichika you need to get some sleep. She can practically hear it in Himari’s pitying voice. Ichika sighs, stuffs the phone back into her pocket.
They’ve lapsed back into a silence. Ciel is turned away, looking out the window. The bus rolls unevenly over hills and potholes, but at least the heating is turned on. Ichika is toasty warm in her seat, like she’s swaddled in her blankets at home, in her bed. She sinks further down into her puffy coat. Outside, through the fogged windows, the skies are already darkening, mistaking the hour for later than it really is. Ichika yawns. She’s always bogged down by a deep exhaustion these days, whether from the relentless ache of rehearsals or the drowsy downpull of winter. Himari is right. She just needs a good night’s sleep, and then she’ll be back to normal again. Bright, cheerful Ichika Usami, a smiling vitamin full of energy. Her eyelids flutter.
She opens them to a faceful of warm fleece.
This isn’t my pillow, Ichika thinks, and then: oh, no.
She jerks up, backward, like she’s been stung by a bee, off Ciel’s shoulder, where she’d somehow managed to fall asleep.
“I’m so sorry!” Ichika shouts, face burning. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“It’s okay,” Ciel says. “You looked like you needed it.”
Her smile reads as weirdly tentative and her cheeks are pink. So much for being a vitamin—Ichika’s made this awkward for everyone. She hurriedly pats down her hair, gathers her bag.
“Well!That’s my stop!” Ichika announces, a bit too loudly, and scrambles for the door. "Bye!"
It isn’t her stop.
She trudges home through the snow, one hand freezing in the cold. But the walk is longer than she’d expected, and the wind is howling something awful. Ichika squints forward, at her path through the darkness. Funny. It almost seems as though the trees are tilting sideways; as though the world is going fuzzy. Bad static.
She does still smell like sugar, Ichika thinks, before everything turns dark.
Remembering the Class of 2016 @miraclehigh
ALERT: Extreme weather warning for tonight, Miracles! 40 mph winds! Bundle up, use the buddy system. Call a parent. Do not walk home.
9 Retweets 24 Likes
baddest bitch at the Aldi’s checkout @erikaaaa
Replying to @miraclehigh
lmfaooooo why don’t you just cancel school already :/
20 Retweets 58 Likes
Ichika is standing on the stage.
Everything is in place for the talent show. Her twin pigtails hang in waves around her head, her outfit glitters under the spotlights. All the seats are empty, but she can’t see them through the darkness, anyway. Only the spotlight shines on her, a circle of perfect light.
Before her stands Ciel.
They stare at each other for a long time. It doesn’t even occur to Ichika to speak. Ciel is looking at her, and does not look away. Neither does Ichika.
Around them, confetti falls in delicate showers. It’s funny. In certain angles, they look almost like snow.
After a while, Ciel lifts her hand. Brings it up towards her mouth, delicate fingers resting on pink lips.
She winks at Ichika and blows a kiss.
The force of it hits Ichika straight in the chest, and she falls backward, lands soft in a pile of shiny rainbow confetti.
Overhead, Ciel steps into her frame of vision. Leans in close, as though assessing the damage she’s made. Her smile is satisfied. She opens her mouth, and says:
“Oh, my god, are you alive? Are you dead? Please don’t be dead. That would suck. Hello?”
Ichika opens her eyes. Everything is cold. She’s lying in the snow, and the girl hovering over her looks like she’s having a panic attack.
“I’m gonna call 911,” the girl says, and Ichika blinks.
“Wait! That’s okay. I’m alive. Look.” Ichika wiggles her fingers.
The girl stares at her, unconvinced.
“I’m alive,” Ichika insists.
“You’re getting in my car,” the girl announces, “we’re warming you up right now.”
Ichika latches onto the word warm. “Sounds good,” she agrees, dazed. So what if this girl is a serial killer. Ichika’s survived a snowstorm, at this point, and a bus ride with Ciel, all in the same day. Nothing can touch her now.
The girl’s car is parked haphazardly by the side of the road, lights still on and doors left open. Ichika almost recoils at the strong scent of caffeine that pours out of the car; the cupholders are all filled with old coffee cups. But it’s warm, as promised, so she gets in, after shaking off all the snow caked to her coat and hair.
“What happened?” the girl says, in the driver’s seat, still freaking out. She cranks the thermostat to full blast. “Did you know you can get frostbite in as little as 2 minutes? Do you still need me to call 911? How many fingers am I holding up?”
“I’m okay!” Ichika holds up her hands in a placating gesture. “Really. I’m fine. Thank you for helping me, though. I’m not really sure what happened.” She thinks back. “Maybe I fainted?”
The girl stares at her. “You fainted?”
Hey, Ichika wants to protest, weirder things have happened, but the girl’s plowing on.
“Actually, no, that’s not unbelievable at all, I mean you were walking in a blizzard, come on. You don’t even have a hat on. Are you crazy? Did your car break down? Were you running from a bear? What on earth possessed you?”
Ichika thinks of Ciel in her dream, coy smile on her face pursing into a kiss, fingers extending forward. Boom.
“I just wasn’t thinking clearly,” Ichika says with a laugh, but it peters out after a while. She fidgets with her hands. For the first time, realizing: this might be just a little bit worse than she thought.
“Obviously,” the girl says. “You nearly gave me a stroke, you know. I was driving home when I saw you lying in the snow, and I almost crashed my car.” She’s still talking fast, but her words are colored with relief. Ichika twists in her seat to look at her. Thick auburn hair tucked under a knit cap, sharp blue eyes, peachy tan skin. Something oddly familiar.
“Hey,” Ichika says, in slow recognition. “You’re that student. The one going to Germany. Hibiki Hojo.”
“Ding ding ding. That’s me.”
“Wow!” Ichika says, eyes widening. It's like being in the presence of a celebrity. “Congratulations! That’s so exciting!”
Hibiki snorts. “There's nothing exciting about it right now. Just work, work, and more work.”
Ichika fingers at the hem of her sleeve. “Still,” she says. “It must be a really incredible experience.” She eyes the coffee cups. “And... stressful?”
“You’ve got no idea.” Some of the manic energy returns to Hibiki's voice. “It’s crazy—I’ve been working for this for so long, and it’s still not mine, because so many other people want it, too. Isn’t that crazy? You realize your dream isn’t just your own. But that just makes me want to fight for it harder, because if so many people are chasing it, then it must mean it’s worth something, right?” She shakes her head. “But it’s not even real, yet. Which is a really weird feeling, because I’ve been wanting it for so long it feels like it’s a part of me, already, it’s a part of my life—but it’s not.” She rubs at her eyes. “Ugh, what am I even saying. I need coffee.”
Somehow Ichika gets the feeling she’s been wanting to say this for a long time. “You’re working so hard,” she says carefully. “That’s always worth something.”
“Yeah, well,” Hibiki says, peering at her eyebags in the rearview mirror. “At the very least, this whole experience is teaching me a lot of things. Like how to prioritize. No more wasting time on should-I-or-shouldn’t-I. If you want something, you gotta work for it. But you also gotta know if it’s really what you want. It’s only fair. To yourself, and also to everyone else.”
Ichika can feel the warmth settling back into her body, blood circling her heart. She clasps her hands together in her lap. One bare, one mittened.
“It sounds a precious dream,” Ichika says. “You should be proud of it.”
Hibiki grins. "My girlfriend Kanade says the same thing."
“Hey,” Ichika says. She smiles. “Thank you by the way.”
Hibiki squints at her. “For picking you out of the snow? How heartless would I have to be to leave you there?”
Not just for that, Ichika thinks. But she keeps it to herself.
“Wow,” Hibiki says after a while, peering out through the windshield. “That’s some storm, huh?”
Ichika looks out at the swirling snow.
“Yeah,” she says, not without a pang of guilt.
WATCH: What Comes Next? Our Plans for the Future | WILD AZUR
10k views 900 likes 180 dislikes
Comments:
SO EXCITING!! hope i can see u guys live!
why tf is it snowing there?? it’s not even october yet
Why are you guys trying so hard to be Ganache?
WILD AZUR UR GONNA OWN 2017
we love you wild azur!!!
are you guys going to release an ep?
Ichika barely makes it through her front door before she’s dialing the number into her phone. One ring; two.
“Ichika?” Akira's voice is scratchy, as though from sleep. “What’s up?”
“Were you taking a nap?” Ichika demands, peeling off her coat and boots. "It's 5pm!"
Ichika can practically hear the shrug. "I was tired. College is stressful.” A soft chuckle. "But you know we'll be back soon right? Over the winter break, though Miku tells me it's basically winter there right now. Yukari hopes that means it'll be nice and warm when we move,"
Ichika just lets her talk as she flies up the stairs to her room, flops down on her bed. She doesn’t say anything, because she knows if she does, Akira'd be able to sense her troubles right away. The familiar chatter in her ear is comforting as a hug from an old friend.
“Hello?” Akira says. “Did you hang up on me?”
“I’m here,” Ichika says. “I just... I dunno. I wanted to talk to you.”
“Sure.” A pause. “Did something happen?”
Ichika stares up at the ceiling. “No? Not really? Kind of?”
“Wow. Is this about your talent show audition? I heard that you made it in! Is that not a good thing?”
“It is, it is," Ichika reassures. “It’s just... there’s this girl.”
Silence.
“Hello?”
“Ichika Usami,” Akira says, her voice low. “Are you asking me for relationship advice?”
Ichika buries her face in her pillow. “I don’t know,” she says, muffled. “But I’m asking for something.”
Akira laughs into the phone, loud and boisterous. Ichika winces, pulls it away from her ear. "Ichika, you can't hide anything from me. I've known you since you were thirteen. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever,” Ichika admits. “I thought you’d be too busy, or something.”
“Busy?”
Ichika curls a strand of her hair around her finger. “Well, you know. You’ve got college. And Yukari. And being an adult.”
“Ichika Usami,” Akira says, again, in the same tone. “You think I can’t handle more than three things in my life at once? Who do you think I am?”
Ichika bites her lip. “It’s not you,” she says. “Or at least, it’s not just you. It’s everyone. Everyone’s moving so fast, Akira! Did you know my coworker Sora's dating? She's a baby! And Hana’s going through her goth phase? Aoi started her band again! And it’s snowing in September and everything’s happening so fast, and," She stops short, blows out a huff of breath. “And I’m still exactly the same.”
“Oh, Ichika” Akira sighs. Ichika can hear her shift her position, her phone picking up the creak of her bed. "Of course everything is changing. You're growing up and so is everyone else. But just because things are different now, it doesn't mean you're being left behind. You’re growing and changing too, Ichika. You're not the same little kid I once knew. It's scary, sure, but it's exciting too, like having a crush on somebody.” She pauses. “So? Do you?”
Ichika hesitates. Ciel in her mind’s eye, knocking her back with the force of a gesture. But also Ciel, the tacky sparkly charm she’d saved on her wallet, one hand in a pink fuzzy mitten, shoulder soft enough to rest on; flaky pastries and sugary fruit. Her face warms at the thought.
“I think I do,” she admits.
“There,” Akira says. “Was that so hard?”
“Yes!” Ichika insists. “You don’t understand! She’s like—she’s too good to be true. And I’m me. It’s never gonna happen!”
“Come on. It can’t be that bad. Who’s this girl?”
“Ah.” Ichika’s laugh lands somewhere between nervous and hysterical. “Well, I don’t know if you know her. You probably don’t, really. You've been graduated for awhile. Her name’s Ciel Kirahoshi? Student body president?”
Short-lived silence, again. Ichika holds her breath. This time, Yukari is the one who speaks.
"The French model? You really aim high!"
Ichika throws her phone into her pile of stuffed animals.
Remembering the Class of 2016 @miraclehigh
2016 was full of great achievments! From Mai Mishou’s two national art awards to Nagisa Misumi bringing our Lacrosse team to the championships! 2017, your move!
3 Retweets 9 Likes
CLASS OF 2017 @dreamynozomi
Replying to @miraclehigh
Just you watch, we’re going to blow 2016 out of the water!!!
5 Retweets 5 Likes
TOP FORM @sakisaki
Replying to @miraclehigh and @dreamynozomi
next time you come to our bakery i’m charging u double for saying this
3 Retweets 21 likes
“Welcome back to school, everyone,” Nozomi says. “Hope you all survived the blizzard this weekend! Our Miracles certainly didn’t, as they were crushed in the game this weekend against our rival school 2-10. Better luck next time, Miracles!”
“It won’t be luck,” Rin says, pouting at the camera. “It’ll be hard practice, that’s what. Speaking of which—practice today after school. Don’t forget.”
“In other news,” Nozomi continues brightly. “The talent show is tonight, so don’t forget to clear your evening and buy your tickets. Also, the Science Club is recruiting, so if you’ve got your eye on the upcoming science fair, head to the Planetarium on the fourth floor and talk to the new president, Hikaru Hoshina."
“Aren’t you signing up, Nozomi?” Rin asks.
Nozomi blinks. “For the Science Club? Why would I?”
“Because we’ve got chemistry.”
Nozomi freezes. Her eyes narrow, then go very, very wide.
Rin smiles innocently.
“You did not,” Nozomi says, her mouth curling up in unabashed delight, in awe.
“I told you.” Rin shrugs. “I can do it better.”
“Oh, it is ON,” Nozomi says, slamming her hand down on the desk.
Which is when Ichika closes her locker door, and startles as she comes face-to-face with Hana.
“Hana! You scared me!” She stares at her. “Were you waiting there this whole time?”
Hana’s face looks pinched with dejection. “I have to tell you something,” she says.
Oh, my god, Ichika thinks, this is it. She’s gonna tell her the reason she started dressing like she walked out of Barbie's nightmare, and it’s going to be bad. Ichika’s head spins from the possibilities. She’s dying of a rare, incurable disease. She’s moving across the country. She was replaced by an evil twin, and she’s here to kill Ichika. Damn it, she knows Ichika’d never be able to fight back. She's weak.
Hana takes a deep breath. “I like Saaya,” she says in a very small voice.
Ichika’s heart flips over in her chest. None of the above.
“Oh,” Ichika says. The shock numbing her from the inside out. “Hana. I didn’t know.”
Hana fidgets with the tips of her fingers poking out from her sleeves. “I know. But now you do. I just had to tell someone.”
Be calm, Ichika tells herself. Be rational, be cool, please for the love of god be helpful.
“Hana,” Ichika wails, and throws her arms around her. “I’m sorry!” She feels an inexplicable prick of tears at the corner of her eyes. “I should have known!”
“What?” Hana mumbles into her hair. “How could you have known?”
“I don’t know! It seems like the kind of thing I should have known!” Ichika clutches her tight. “I’m your friend! I’m supposed to know these things! I’m supposed to be here for you in your time of need!”
Hana shakes her head. “I didn’t want anyone to know. When I realized it, I wanted to keep it a secret. I didn’t want it to change anything. But it’s not going away, and the more time that passes, the more sure of it I am, and I want...” She hesitates. “I just want someone to tell me that it’s okay.”
“What!” Ichika clings to her. “Of course it’s okay, Hana! What are you talking about?”
“I mean, that it’s going to be okay... that everything’s still going to be the same.”
“But Hana,” Ichika says, pulling back. “This is wonderful.”
Hana stares at her.
“It’s the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me,” she says.
Ichika gapes. “What? But Saaya loves you—” Hana full-body flinches. Okay, maybe not the best word to use. “I mean, you and Saaya have been inseparable since forever. If you just spoke with her—”
“I can’t,” Hana says, miserable. “I don’t want her to hate me.”
Wow. And Ichika thought she was bad.
“Hana,” Ichika says, slowly. “This is Saaya we’re talking about. Saaya who cried in eighth grade when she found out butterflies only live for, like, two weeks.” Hana’s still silent. “Hana. This is Saaya. You know her.”
“You don’t understand,” Hana says, shaking her head. “You can’t.”
Ichika sucks in a breath, overcome with realization. She’s right. Ichika can’t understand, what it feels like to fall in love with your best friend, with someone who has hinged your entire world. What it’s like to live that close to that person, instead of watching them from a safe distance. To talk to them every day, to listen to their deepest fears and secrets, to know them inside and out. All this time Ichika thought she had it hard, when in reality, this is so much scarier, isn’t it? And Hana’s been living with this all by herself. No wonder she turned to winged eyeliner for comfort.
“Hana,” Ichika says, gently. “Saaya cares for you a lot. Regardless of whether or not she’ll return your feelings... She won’t want to hurt you. You have to believe that, at the very least."
Hana casts her eyes down. “Maybe,” she mumbles. Her choppy dark pink hair is hiding her face. Ichika is struck with a flash of an idea.
"Hey, well at least these look better than the first day of eighth grade huh?" She teases, ruffling Hana's hair with one hand.
“What does that have to do with anything?” But she’s startled into a laugh, and Ichika laughs, too, loud with joy and relief, something inexplicably tender. Hana, close as she’s ever been.
“Thank you for telling me,” Ichika says, and squeezes her tighter, just because she can.
“ICHIKA,” comes Aoi’s voice from all the way down the hall. “HOW COME I HAD TO HEAR FROM SORA THAT AKO SAID THAT HIBIKI FOUND YOU HALF-DEAD IN THE SNOW THREE DAYS AGO.”
Hana blinks. “What?”
Ichika’s smile freezes on her face. “Oops.”
Aoi and Himari fall upon her, Saaya and Haruka following suit, practically tackling her to the ground. Ichika has to defend herself with her life, batting them away with her pink, strawberry themed binders. But in the chaos and commotion, she sees what she hadn’t before. Hana, staying close to Saaya. Not touching. But not shying away, either.
Everyone is being brave, Ichika thinks. So maybe she can, too.
Written on the wall of the last stall on the second floor girl’s bathroom:
i don’t want 2016 to end :(
i dont want to graduate in 2017
i just want to stay here with my friends forever
my older sister tells me adulthood is so scary and stressful?
its hard enough stressing about my calc test next week!!! >.<
beauties like me shouldnt have to suffer like this :(
-EK
sometimes i feel like everything is moving too fast where are all of my friends going?
-HH
i want to go back to this summer before our senior year, i think pokemon go healed us
-LM
^^^^^ cant u guys make a groupchat or something damn
“Good evening, Miracle High, and welcome to the annual talent show! I’m Rin Natsuki and I’ll be one of your hosts for the night.”
“And I’m Nozomi Yumehara, your other host for the night. Our talented students have been practicing hard for this, so get ready for a night to remember!” A conspicuous pause.
“No. Don’t even try.”
“Ugh, fine.”
Their voices ring out loudly even backstage. Ichika smooths out the puffy skirt of her dress. Some of the other performers are looking at her weird, Aoi especially, but she ignores them. She’s been smiling for forty minutes straight and doesn’t intend to stop anytime soon. It’s your magic power, Mirai told her once; as long as you smile, nothing can ever go wrong. And they were just kids, but maybe some small part of Ichika still believes it.
Beside her, Mirai and Riko are fussing about Kotoha, fixing her cape and oversized witch hat like overbearing stage moms. Erika Kurumi drops all of her joke flashcards to the floor, some of them getting swept up under the dancing feet of Love Momozono. Aoi’s drummer guy is twirling his drumsticks, knee jittering, a conductor of movement. One by one, they’re all called forward, through the wings and onto the stage.
“Hey.”
It’s almost time for Ichika’s performance. She’s standing in the wings, straightening out the collar of her dress.
“Hey. Ichika.”
Ichika whirls around. The smile falls from her face. Her cheeks are sore.
“Ciel?” Ichika gasps. “What are you doing here?”
She looks—out of breath. Panting slightly, strands of hair out of place, sticking to the sweat of her neck. Her fingers tugging at the hem of her jacket.
She looks perfect.
“I just wanted to say.” Ciel hesitates. “Don’t be nervous. You’re going to do great.”
And what does that mean, Ichika thinks, mind spinning like the tumble of a wheel down a hill, but Ciel’s face is open and waiting and—anxious, as though she doesn’t know what comes next, as though she hadn’t even considered it before she came here, and only now is she giving it a second thought, now that the moment is moving away from them, losing hold the longer Ichika waits. So maybe it doesn’t mean anything at all. Or maybe it means Ciel Kirahoshi, student council president, model slash prodigy baker slash transfer student, stealer of phone charms and mittens and hearts, had come just to wish Ichika luck.
Everything else falls away. Ichika takes a breath, says, “Thank you.” A smile creeps upon her, then, one sudden as a knee jumping up in reflex; one that possesses her to say—“It’ll be cute, right?”
And—to Ichika’s wild delight—Ciel blushes, bright red.
In the intimate half-darkness of the wings, Ciel’s smile lighting up the shadows, Ichika feels as though on a cusp of a secret world. One shared between the two of them, familiar strangers. Ichika’s heart is light in her chest, enough to coast away on, as though it has grown wings.
Everyone else is being brave, Ichika remembers, and raises a hand up to her lips. There's silence between them. Before she can think better if it, Ichika is winking and blowing a kiss. Ciel visibly stumbles back.
“...and next up, please welcome Ichika Usami to the stage!” comes Nozomi’s booming voice.
Ichika startles, full-body. “Oh,” she says. Her lips burn, her cheeks burn. “I’ve got to—”
She turns, plunges out of the darkness and into the light; comes dashing out from the curtains, a sweep of dark red velvet, and casts her brilliant, terrified grin upon the audience.
Later, she will only remember her performance in bursts: the bright heat of the spotlight, the click of her heels, the sharp turn of every step on the stage. The audience, too, exists in flashes: Saaya’s old camcorder, recording; Aoi’s answering grin in the first row, done with her performance; Hana nodding her head along to the music. But Ichika hardly sees any of them. Straight ahead in her mind’s eye, she is looking at Ciel, that expression of soft shock upon her face, and Ciel is looking back.
BOOM BOOM I LOVE PRETTY GIRLS, the music cheers.
Is that snow in the air, or confetti?
The world erupts into applause. Ichika holds on, for as long as she can, the smile luminous upon her face.
Then the fall.
miraicle TALENT SHOW TONIGHT, everyone cheer on my baby @hachan !!!!!!!! #miraclehigh #miraclehightalentshow
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15 Comments:
hachan: im not a babyyy
rikorapapa: u are our baby!
When Ichika wakes up, everything is quiet, almost muffled. If she strains her ears, she can hear distant voices, soft as snowfall. Like being inside a very warm, cozy mitten, Ichika thinks fuzzily, and then she opens her eyes.
She’s in the nurse’s office. Stark walls, uncomfortable cot, a square window. It’s snowing outside.
“You’re awake,” comes a voice. Ichika turns to see the nurse, and—Ichika’s eyes widen—standing next to her is Ciel, visibly worried. Ichika shoots upright into a sitting position, blankets falling away from her on the cot.
Behind the nurse, through the slit of glass on the closed door, she can make out familiar faces, crowded around each other. Aoi, Himari, Hana, Saaya, Haruka, Mirai, all elbowing each other for space. Ichika makes a panicked face at them. Himari says something Ichika can’t hear, hands cupped around the glass; Haruka waggles her eyebrows unhelpfully in Ciel’ direction. Aoi sticks out her tongue.
The nurse draws the curtain over the door without even looking, shutting them out.
“You’re fine,” she says. “You fainted on the stage, but it looks to be from exhaustion, not any underlying health conditions, and you weren’t hurt in the fall. This student was able to reach you quickly, and carry you here. You’ve been expending a lot of energy lately. Can you think of what might be causing it?”
Outside the windows, snow whirls past the glass.
“Oh,” is all Ichika says, her voice small.
“Well, whatever it is, you’d better put a stop to it as soon as possible. Lots of water, lots of rest, and don’t even think about any strenuous activity anytime soon.” The nurse shoots her a sharp look. “Have you got a ride home?”
“I’ll take her,” Ciel cuts in.
The nurse turns her unimpressed gaze on Ciel. “Do you have a car?”
Ciel hesitates. “Uh... no?”
“My friends can take me home,” Ichika says quickly. “It’s fine!”
“They’d better,” the nurse says, with a sniff. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Just remember—only one visitor allowed in the room at one time.” She turns, sweeps out the door.
Silence.
“I got you a granola bar,” Ciel says. “From the vending machine.”
She thrusts it into Ichika’s face. Ichika blinks, slow. Takes it.
“Thanks,” Ichika mumbles, and then: “Did you really carry me all the way here?”
Ciel’s face is still red. “What else was I supposed to do? Drag you?”
She’s pouting. Ichika looks at her, standing there at the foot of the cot, and sighs. Shifts over, and pats the space next to her.
“Come on,” Ichika says. “You’re probably tired, too.”
“No, you’re really very light,” Ciel says.
But she hops onto the cot, next to Ichika. They sit there, shoulder to shoulder. Ichika, holding the granola bar in her hand; Ciel, still holding onto the wallet she’d bought it with.
Usagi's gleaming face, winking at them both, pointing accusingly.
“That’s mine, you know,” Ichika says.
“I know."
“Oh.” A pause. “Wait WHAT?”
“You were so quick to leave it behind. I thought I’d hold onto it in case you wanted it back. And then it just grew on me.” Ciel shrugs. “It’s cute.”
“You keep saying that!”
Ciel can’t help the giggle that bubbles up. Then her eyes narrow, playful. “Why do you think? I haven’t exactly been subtle.”
“But... but.”
“You can’t seriously be this obtuse. Ichika Usami you really are dense. You’re the one who kissed me!”
“Hey! You came to my performance! And it was like, an air-kiss? Should I not have?”
“ Non! ” Ciel says immediately. “You can’t take it back!"
“Well, good!” Ichika fires back. “I didn’t want to anyway!” A defiant cross of her arms. She pauses. “What are we even fighting about?”
“I don’t know,” Ciel admits. “But it feels like we’ve been doing this since the beginning, doesn’t it?" She glances at the ground. "Oh, here. I washed it, even if I only wore it home,"
Ciel rummages in her jacket pocket for a moment before pulling out a fluffly pink mitten. Ichika's heart nearly stops as she takes it back.
"Oh," she says. "Thanks,"
They lapse back into silence and Ciel stares at the closed door.
“Your friends are all really worried about you.” Ciel’s mouth turns down again. “You must have been really stressed.”
“Not really,” Ichika says. “Just... scared, I guess.”
Ciel turns to her, expression curious. “Scared of what?”
Of you, Ichika could say, but it isn’t true, not really, not anymore; in all her strangeness, her unexpected frequency in Ichika’s life, and all the excitement she has brought into it, she has become familiar, too. It’s something larger, maybe: the forward momentum that has made all of this possible, has landed them here. The storm she can’t see anything through.
Now that it’s reached them, though, it’s not so bad. The fear of not knowing what comes next, but the thrill, too.
“You know,” Ciel says. “I don’t like smoothies very much.”
Ichika whips her head around to narrow her eyes at her. “What?”
“They water the taste down and have an awful texture,” Ciel admits. “I only went there because...” She bites her lip. “Well, you already know.”
Ichika gapes at her. “WHAT! But you spent like! So much money! And you’re so—” She cuts herself off.
Ciel frowns. “So what?”
“You’re the student council president,” Ichika blurts.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’re a model!”
“I posed for some French magazine when I was, like, fourteen.”
“You were a prodigy pȃtissière!”
“When I was a kid, sure. Not so much anymore,"
“You’re lived in Paris!”
Ciel raises an eyebrow. “And?”
“You’re Ciel Kirahoshi,” Ichika says helplessly. “You’re the prettiest, coolest girl in school. Everyone is jealous of you. You have to know that. There’s no way you don’t know that.”
Ciel snorts. “Please. If anything, I was jealous of you.”
“Me?” Ichika repeats, gawking. “Why on earth would you be jealous of me?”
Ciel’s eyes dart over to the door. The curtain is still closed, but through it, they can make out the silhouettes of the people still standing there. Aoi’s distinctive high ponytail; Himari pacing nervously; Saaya and Hana talking; Haruka, terribly tall, listening. All of them, waiting to see if Ichika is alright; all of them, waiting for her.
She turns back around, to face Ciel, sitting beside her, quiet and alone.
“Oh,” Ichika says, stunned.
“Maybe everybody is jealous of me,” Ciel says, not meeting Ichika’s eye. “Maybe everybody wants to be me, whatever. Who cares! But you’re the one... you’re the one everybody wants in their life. Wants to be their friend.” She lowers her gaze, down to her lap. “I wanted it, too.”
Ichika feels like she’s been struck by a sledgehammer. “But Ciel,” she says. “You’re amazing!”
“Why? Because I dedicated my childhood to multiple careers? Because I lived in Paris? Because I have good posture and look put-together?” Ciel snorts, again. “None of that means anything.”
“Yes, it does! But you're more than that!” Ichika says, with a sudden fierceness that surpises even herself. “You—you look mature, people look up to you! But also your sense of humor is totally uncool! Your laugh isn’t graceful at all! You’re very observant, and you’re always paying attention. But you came to buy a smoothie while it was snowing just to say hi to me! You...” She hesitates. “You took care of me.”
Ciel stares at her. Eyes wide.
Ichika pokes her. “You have a big heart. You’re just—” and a smile is coming upon her again, far too strong to be stopped—“shy?”
“What?” Ciel squeaks, cheeks aflame with a scandalized expression. “I liked it better when you were calling me a model and, what was it, the coolest person in school.”
“Wow,” Ichika says, laughing, “we’re so dumb!”
“Excuse me?”
“We were both waiting for the same thing,” Ichika says. “Isn’t that dumb?”
Ciel is totally smiling, even if she’s trying to hide it. “Speak for yourself.”
“Hey,” Ichika says, as something occurs to her. “The smoothie shop. How’d you even know I worked there?”
Ciel shrugs. “Haruka Haruno, she's on the student council, she's your friend right?”
Ichika blinks. Once, twice, three times. Then screams into her fist.
“Whoa,” Ciel says, taking Ichika’s wrist and dragging her hand back down. Then: “Wow. How are your hands so warm?”
Ichika latches onto her palm, doesn’t let go. “It’s my shining love for you,” she says in an exaggerated, sweet voice, and then breaks into giggles.
Ciel rolls her eyes, but she is also trying, and failing, to hold back her own laughter. “Oh my god, you are so lame.” But she catches Ichika’s eye, then, as though almost by accident, and they fall into a strange, anticipatory silence. Ciel’s hair, soft against Ichika’s shoulder. Their legs, laid out on the cot, slightly touching. All that’s been said has cleared out any pretenses left between them, and Ichika looks at Ciel’s face; distantly remembers her dream.
“Ichika Usami,” Ciel says, staring Ichika straight in the eye, every word weighted with intent. “Will you go on a date with me?”
“I’ll do you one better,” Ichika says, just as serious. “I’ll be your friend, too.”
The expression on Ciel's face is something Ichika hopes she never forgets.
“Good, now eat your granola bar,” Ciel says, mustering up a coolly stern expression.
Ichika glances down at the wrapper. It’s strawberry shortcake flavor. Of course. She rips it open, takes a bite.
“Hey,” Ciel says. Her voice full of wonder. “I think it’s stopped snowing outside.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” Ichika says, mouth full.
“I don’t know,” Ciel says, tone wistful. “I kinda liked it. It felt so magical. Like the last thing you would ever expect, but once it’s gone, you miss it.”
Ichika beams. “Thanks!”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Ichika wipes the crumbs from the front of her dress. “Hey, we should probably get going. This place smells like Lysol.”
“Right,” Ciel says. Peering at the door. “They probably think we’ve killed each other in here, or something.”
“Nah,” Ichika says with a wince. “I guarantee they’re probably thinking something else.”
Ciel’s eyes widen, her face flushes almost entirely a pinky-red. Ichika thinks she looks very cute. Like a strawberry.
“Well,” she starts, voice cracking. “May as well, give them something to talk about,”
A piece of strawberry granola bar hits her lap.
Ciel tastes like sugar too.
Overheard ar Miracle High @overheardmiracle
Girls bathroom, second floor, before first period:
"I heard Ciel herself went to wish someone good luck at the talent show. Imagine being that lucky?"
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“Good morning, Miracles! Hope you all had to chance to recover after last night’s truly once-in-a-lifetime talent show! Congratulations Wild Azur! Everyone who didn’t go, your school spirit sucks. Also, you missed out on a real heart-stopping experience.”
“Isn’t that joke kind of in poor taste?”
“What? Ichika’s fine!” Nozomi waves her hand dismissively. “Hey, Rin. Are we two power lines in a thunderstorm?”
Rin closes her eyes with a sigh. “Sure. Why not?"
“Great. Then will you go out with me?”
“That’s... actually not bad,” Rin says grudgingly, and then her eyes widen, at Nozomi’s expectant face. “Wait. Are you asking for real?”
“Dummy, I’ve been asking for real the whole time!”
Rin stares at her. The gleaming grin on Nozomi’s face. The space of a held breath. Then, before the entire school, Rin breaks into a slow, stupid smile.
“Yes,” Rin says. “I will, you loser.”
The school goes wild.
Ichika claps and cheers along with everyone else, closes her locker door.
“Hey,” Ciel says. Leant up against the lockers, next to her. “How are you feeling?”
Ichika beams at her. It feels like her whole body is stretched in a smile, lifting up at the edges, trying to reach her. “Good! Great! Perfect!”
“Only one of those was necessary,” Ciel says, amused. “Did you sleep a lot last night? Like you promised?”
“Sure I did,” Ichika singsongs.
“Liar!” Ciel says immediately. “I saw that home cafe video you sent me at 3AM! Do you want to faint again?”
“Why’d you ask if you already know the answer!” Ichika whines.
Ciel crosses her arms, shakes her head disapprovingly. Ichika snakes her arm through Ciel’s, leans up close, grinning.
“You are unbelievable.” Ciel swats at her.
“I didn’t say anything!”
A hidden smile. “Come on, let’s get you to homeroom.”
Ichika walks with her, still clinging onto her arm. “Are you walking me there?”
“Just to make sure you don’t faint on the way,” Ciel says.
Ichika lays her head on Ciel’ shoulder. “You’d carry me, anyway!”
“Oh, my god,” comes a voice. “It’s happening, it’s really happening.” Mirai descends upon them, eyes bright, practically radiating glee. “You guys are so cute!”
“I’m happy for you guys,” Himari says, shyly.
“Thanks,” Ciel says, but she brushes her hair behind her ear as she does it, which means she’s feeling just as shy. Ichika’s got her all figured out. She squeezes her arm tighter. “I’ve heard a lot about you guys. It’s great to finally meet you.”
“Didn’t I tell you?” Haruka whispers in Ichika’s ear. “Disney princess! A talking baby bunny!” She frowns. “Or is it the other way around, with you two? I can’t tell.”
“Shut up, I cant believe you,” Ichika hisses, batting her away, but she can’t keep the smile off her face. “Hey, Hana. Is that a stick-on butterfly tattoo on your arm?”
Hana scowls. “Nobody was supposed to see that! How was I supposed to know the snow was gonna melt and it’d get too hot to wear my leather jacket?”
“Isn’t it so weird?” Aoi says. “The moment the snow stopped, it all melted so fast. It should be autumn, still, but it’s so warm all of a sudden, it feels like spring in September. Everything’s green, outside. I actually saw flowers on my way to school today. What could be causing it?”
Ichika catches sight of something strange. Saaya, biting her lip, flushing a faint pink; casting a sideways glance at Hana, who doesn’t seem to notice. Still rubbing at the butterfly imprinted onto her skin.
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Ichika says with a smile on her face. “But I think it’s a sign of great things to come.”
“Oh, I think the great things are already here,” Ciel mumbles to Ichika, and they’re holding hands, by now. They’re not subtle; some people are watching them, in the halls, heads turning to stare. But it’s junior year, and anything can happen. Like snow in September, or else spring; like growing up or falling in love or moving forward, through every surprise, every precious miracle.
And outside, the last of the snow shakes from a tree branch in the wind; reveals the beginnings of a flower blooming there.
ichikaberry Thanks to the warm weather @parfaitciel and i hit the KiraPati after school today! ( ALSO THANK U GUYS FOR ALL THE WARM WISHES I LIVED THO U CANT KILL ICHIKA USAMI!)
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60 Comments:
miraicle: GLAD U DIDNT DIE BESTIE
Xx_hana_xX: if u had died i would have killed u (ur performance was really good!)
parfaitciel: OMG U SAID U WOULDNT POST THIS I LOOK TERRIBLE!!
ichikaberry: @parfaitciel um excuse me... how dare you talk about my gf like that
aoi_wildazur: @parfaitciel @ichikaberry omg gross get a room
ichikaberry: @aoi_wildazur u are on MY post ?? bitch?
arisugawahimari: you went to kirapati without me? :(
herosora: ???? what happened dude is this why u called out of work
floralharuka: DISNEY PRIBCESS!!