Work Text:
Their match has long come to a conclusion, and her tea has already turned lukewarm. Victory and the ungodly amount of sugar she added to her forgotten drink have no taste now, so she's left to grudgingly accept the cold bitterness of knowing she'll be by herself for a while longer.
— I don't get it... Just what do you see in that guy?
Cerydra scoffs to herself at the mere thought of that arrogant guy Aglaea has grown so fond of. Not only is he an absolute know-it-all, he's also insufferably rude. And yet here she is, hearing her friend say she'll spend the weekend with him as her next sewing model.
— Hm. I often wonder the same thing.
For her impeccable sense of fashion, Aglaea has a terrible taste in boys. But at least she's aware of it.
Her original plans were to invite Aglaea to spend the weekend with her, but now her plans are ruined by the same guy who openly criticized one of the projects they had spent so much time on... But Cerydra isn't holding grudges. Definitely.
— Have fun, then. And patience. You're going to need it.
And with that, their reunion has concluded. Once Aglaea leaves the Student Council's room, all that Cerydra is left with is the usual silence that seems to follow her around like a Monarch's cape.
She sighs to herself as if to dispel the facade of the no-nonsense Class President, standing up and looking at her forgotten tea and Aglaea's empty cup. Maybe cleaning around will distract her from the familiar cold of loneliness, already expanding.
Straight posture, measured steps and that usual confident smile. By the time she steps out of the room, Cerydra has already donned the mask of Class President once more.
She's dedicated to her duties, diligent like no other has ever been, by all means she embodies the idea of a flawless student!
But she's lonely.
Perhaps in her endless pursuit of becoming perfect, she has neglected the one thing that matters most. And now she's incomplete, unable to voice such a thing aloud. It would be unbecoming of her, always so self-sufficient, to admit vulnerability. Yearning.
Aglaea is the closest thing she has to a friend, even if most of their interactions are related to their respective duties as Class President and Secretary... Or them, gossiping about other students— mostly complaining about Cifera, who despite her position as Treasurer, has been making a bit too many jokes about using the funds they've collected.
Cifera annoys her more often than not. Cerydra has nothing against her personally... But her total disregard for academics and her usual shenanigans have been the main test to her patience.
Besides them, she doesn't really have casual interactions with anyone. Other students either seek her out when they're in need of guidance, or they avoid her; as if fearing she's but a megalomaniac who seeks only the position of Class President and the prestige it brings: ultimately, they think only of 'the Class President,' but not of 'Cerydra.'
There's still some time before classes start.
If she doesn't distract herself soon, then odds are she'll end up thinking too much about this yawning void demanding companionship. But what can she do? She's memorized every corner, every hall and every room there is in school; having gone on walks like these a bit too often.
Turning around a corner, Cerydra barely manages to halt her steps before stumbling with... A girl. One she hasn't seen before in all the years she's spent in this school.
This girl looks down at her with an entirely neutral expression, as if she wasn't bothered at all with the accident that Cerydra almost failed to avoid. And that catches her attention.
No recognition behind her eyes, only a neutral politeness as she gives a small nod of her head.
— My apologies. I was distracted.
...Oh.
Her voice is pleasant; and that's a gross understatement. Cerydra's eloquence fails her, only coming up with overly simplistic words to describe this girl's voice and quiet elegance.
— Don't worry, I... Wasn't paying much attention either.
For once, Cerydra is taken aback enough to be unable to put on her usual air of seriousness. Instead, she tilts her head up to get a better look at this girl; who clearly notices her curiosity and indulges her with a few more words.
— I just transferred here, if that's what you want to ask.
— I could tell.
By the time she realizes how rude that could be seen as, it's too late. But to Cerydra's surprise, this walking mermaid smiles, visibly hesitating for a few seconds before extending one of her pale hands.
— My name's Helektra. And you are...?
Introductions pass them by in the blink of an eye, as if they had already known each other a long time ago and this ease with which they interact had been unlocked as soon as they knew of each other's name.
Cerydra guides Helektra across the halls she has come to memorize, offering both words of advice on where to go and just a bit of gossip here and there. (See: 'Cifera often uses this spot to sneak out,' or 'I once saw Aglaea making out with Anaxa here.')
Helektra, for her part, listens intently— offering a few comments, sometimes surprisingly humorous despite how her expression remains unchangingly neutral save for the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. And somehow, the way in which she deadpans such things is enough for Cerydra to be all the more entertained.
The classes they share aren't silent, but accompanied by quiet giggles as they continue chatting. Deep down, Cerydra knows that she hasn't shared such a sense of companionship and familiarity with anyone in years. Not with Aglaea, not with Cifera, and certainly not with anyone in her family.
(Perhaps it's a bit too much familiarity, she muses sheepishly as she realizes how they've been walking hand in hand throughout their impromptu school tour.)
'The Student Council room is intended ONLY for council matters, it is not there for idle chatter!' Though she used to say that time and time again, Cerydra sees herself breaking that unwritten rule over and over. From gossiping with Aglaea to spending recesses with Helektra simply playing chess and talking about everything and nothing at all; she accepts that perhaps she let her loneliness decide on that childish rule.
— Checkmate.
— Hm. A brilliant strategy.
Helektra is good at chess, that's undeniable. But still, even her natural talent pales when compared with Cerydra's nearly obsessive love for the game. (She must've seen a lot if she isn't weirded out by her passion for something most would've deemed boring.)
— ...Cerydra, about your proposal.
— Have you made up your mind?
She has reminded her new friend that whatever decision she takes, she'll accept it either way. But it's no secret that Cerydra still hopes that Helektra will agree to taking the position of Vice President.
Her initial reason to make such a proposal was 'it's a position that requires a diligence I've only seen in you,' then it became 'we could have more opportunities to gossip' and 'otherwise, that Anaxa guy will take the position' and not so long ago, Cerydra casually admitted that in truth it was because she trusts Helektra enough...
And because she'll be damned if she has to stand Anaxa on a near daily basis.
— I have. I'll accept it.
— Wonderful.
Cerydra's response is measured, as if she had foreseen this outcome... But in truth, she's beyond overjoyed. Not just at the prospect of not having to see He Who Shan't Be Named, but at the thought of having more time to spend with Helektra outside of classes and whatever phonecalls they have when they're not busy.
— ...Won't you ask why I'm accepting?
Helektra's question gently snaps Cerydra from her victory-born reverie, making her blink a few times before she processes the question. Should she question her friend's acceptance? Maybe it's just her inexperience in matters regarding friendships, or maybe she's come to trust Helektra a bit too much, enough to forget that perhaps she does have interests of her own.
But what could they be?
It's certainly not popularity. Cerydra has come to learn just how tiresome Helektra finds dealing with people.
It's not a matter of 'oh, I have free time to spare'; seeing as Helektra is often times too busy with different recitals and practice... Which, to be fair, is natural. Her talent is beyond any doubt both with singing and playing the violin.
Then what might it be?
— Well, what is it, then?
— I accepted because I'd have more time to spend with you, Cerydra.