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“Nakayama Festa.”
The girl in question looked up from her plate but continued pushing her steamed broccoli and carrots around with her fork. If she was intimidated by being personally addressed by the seven-crowned emperor and student council president of Tracen Academy, it didn’t show on her face at all.
Instead, Sirius’ roommate squinted at her. “Sorry, who are you again?”
Rudolf tried not to stumble backwards awkwardly. It’s not that she wasn’t used to being teased — several of her closest friends had doing so as their favorite pastime — but those who didn’t know her very well were never inclined to try it.
Bringing a gloved hand up to her mouth, she smiled. “Well, it’s very nice to see you too.”
“If you’re looking for Sirius, she went to the restroom,” Nakayama Festa stated, skewering a carrot on her fork and shoving it into her mouth with little decorum. The metal utensil scraped irritatingly against the fine ceramic plate.
A girl like this was rarely found at Symboli family gatherings.
Nakayama Festa carried herself as if she didn’t care who saw her disregard all politeness and custom, even if they were important, even if this gathering was crucial to furthering her future as a racer, as if an outsider girl with a relatively unimpressive record going into her senior year wasn’t out of place here at all.
Rudolf straightened her back. “I wished to talk to you,” she said. “It’s been a while. I’m pleased to see a student here.”
“There are a bunch of students here,” was Nakayama’s response.
Her brand of sarcasm was different from Sirius’s and had none of the history behind it, leaving her a bit of an enigma in Rudolf’s eyes.
“But I know what you’re getting at,” she amended after taking a large gulp of champagne. As far as Rudolf knew, she was only about nineteen, so she shouldn’t have even been given a glass in the first place. She patted the unoccupied seat next to her, and Rudolf took it, smoothing out the wrinkles in her green dress as she sat.
She exhaled, fixing Nakayama Festa with a kind expression, and was met with a smirk.
“So, how have you been faring?”
“So, how’s the Emperor doing?”
Their words overlapped. Rudolf giggled demurely, hiding her smile behind her hand. The corners of Nakayama Festa’s oft-disinterested eyes turned up.
“In my case, I’ve been traveling to various racetracks around the country,” Rudolf explained. “There are several that have facilities in dire need of updating, and I’ve been looking to secure funding from local communities and within the URA.”
Nakayama Festa whistled. “Wow. You’re still the president, aren’t you?” she commented even though as a student of Tracen Academy she was sure to know the answer.
“In some ways, these are my duties,” Rudolf said. “Though if I happen to work beyond them, nothing is lost, is it?”
“Your mind,” Nakayama Festa quipped. “Anyway, I’m sure you already know what I’ve been up to.”
“I’d rather hear it from you.”
“So you do,” she laughed. “Didn’t think Sirius would say anything.” Nakayama Festa’s activities at the moment were very public, but those public announcements had nothing to do with Sirius. If that was what came to her mind first… Rudolf’s eyes remained fixed on Nakayama’s lips tracing the edge of her champagne flute.
“Both of you submitted the request to academy staff at the same time,” Rudolf reminded her. The documents hadn’t passed through her desk — she wasn’t the one with authority to approve overseas expeditions. But she was privy to names of students who had submitted such things to the academy. Nakayama’s name hadn’t been a surprise; her intent to challenge the Arc was well-known through the rumor mill even before her debut, and she’d recently confirmed it yet again on the public stage in a rather enthusiastic manner.
Sirius’ name was written underneath hers — she remembered tracing her thumb over the ink until the pigment almost rubbed off.
“But not only that. There are lots of eyes on you, Nakayama Festa. Mine included.”
Her eyes closed, and she set her fork down on her cleaned plate with an irritating clang. “Oh, I know.”
Rudolf ran her hand along the silk of her dress, brainstorming which words would convey her intentions the best, while concealing all the things she didn’t want the girl in front of her to know, but the clack of heels becoming closer over the constant lull of live music interrupted her, and her ears turned towards the sound unconsciously.
She watched Nakayama tilt her head back over the back of her chair. “Hey,” she said, grinning up at Sirius.
Her childhood best friend’s eyes flickered over to Rudolf on her left, before she leaned down and whispered something in Nakayama Festa’s twitching ear. The sound of Nakayama’s laughter was so grating — it was rude of her to even think, but at this moment she did not find this girl’s general demeanor endearing.
Nakayama’s head swung up, Sirius standing straight to not get walloped in the chin. Her hand rested against the backrest of Nakayama’s chair, French-tipped nails rapping against the fabric, and Rudolf soon found those beautiful red eyes fixed on her.
Am I interrupting something? she thought.
“She came over here,” Nakayama clarified.
“Did she?” Sirius said, amused. She didn’t stop looking at Rudolf, challenging her to explain herself.
Rudolf cleared her throat. “It’s good to see you too, Sirius.” She wrung her hands under the veil of the tablecloth.
“I’ve seen you three times today already,” Sirius said with a smirk. “I want to know what you’re trying.”
Nakayama reached back to poke Sirius’s side. “Don’t listen to her, she’s just jealous.”
Rudolf felt her entire face burn.
“I’m talking with a student,” she said, evenly and calmly, but she felt her ears droop when Sirius’ laughter reached them.
Sirius Symboli took the seat to Nakayama Festa’s right. Her champagne glass had long been stolen, emptied, and contents poured into Nakayama’s, and when she noticed this Rudolf felt the table jolt with the force of a playful kick.
“Are you five? Don’t do that,” Nakayama Festa teased.
“At least I’m old enough to drink,” Sirius bit back, prying a half-empty champagne flute from Nakayama’s grasp. Nakayama let go without much of a fuss, straightening her suit collar and leaning her elbows against the table. She had stacked various plates high in front of her for the caterer to pick up, some balanced precariously on top of others.
It was like Rudolf’s presence was entirely forgotten. Something ugly twisted in her gut, the kind of feeling she needed to suppress.
When she shifted in her chair, Sirius’s ears pricked up. “Wait,” she blurted out. “I still want to know what you were doing here.”
Rudolf wished she had a glass of water or alcohol in front of her, something to sip to make her expression more neutral.
Without that, she tapped her nails against her skirt rhythmically. “I will be honest with you,” she began, willing herself to meet Sirius’ eyes, something that should not be this difficult for her, “I meant to congratulate Nakayama Festa on her announcement of intent to challenge the Prix de L’Arc de Triomphe.”
And Sirius, who should have known better, leaned her elbows against the table, voice low and teasing. “Are you jealous?”
Brow furrowed and mouth twisting into a frown, Rudolf replied immediately, belying a crack in her composure. “Sirius, you know I’m where I want to be right now.”
“You say that,” Sirius said, sitting back. “It’s not close to being there, but you’ll watch on TV, won’t you?”
“I won’t miss it,” Rudolf agreed, turning her expression into a warm smile. Sirius’ smirk wasn’t mean, like it used to be. It was rather fond, even if she was teasing her, and it should have made Rudolf feel good about herself, because she’d wished for a while to have any kind of rapport with Sirius even if it wasn’t quite what they used to have.
Just like that, Rudolf became practically invisible again. “Anyway,” Nakayama Festa began, turning to Sirius, “the balcony’s finally free.”
Rudolf could swear Sirius’ eyes flicked towards her again before they settled on Nakayama. The expression on her face when she looks at Nakayama Festa… how long had it been since Sirius looked at her like that? She didn’t look at Nakayama just as a friend— there was admiration there, and that was what stung, more than any implication of an intimate relationship between the two of them. What had this unremarkable girl done to deserve that kind of look, when Rudolf herself had lost the privilege?
Sirius Symboli pushed herself up from her chair. “We’re going to get air,” she stated bluntly to Rudolf, who could only nod. Joining her, Nakayama looked back and waved to her casually before the two of them disappeared into the crowd.
Rearranging the plates on the table into a state from which they could be picked up safely, Rudolf signaled to the nearest caterer and pushed herself back into place.