Archive of Our Own

It had to be the worst, most thoughtless decision she had ever made.

There were few things in the world that were more terrifying than being the New Girl. Ohtori adjusted her bag on her shoulder as she gazed up upon the looming gates of Hyoutei Girls Academy. Just what was she doing there? They have an excellent music program, she reminded herself. Her mother insisted that teenage girls did better in all-girls schools – scientists in Australia did a study comparing students at an all-girls school to those of a co-ed school and found that girls immediately improved 15-22% on their marks in Math or Science as soon as they were separated from boys. Oh, and then they would not have to worry about their little angel meeting a boy and becoming distracted from the important things in life, her father butted in helpfully. Where he got such a strange notion, she did not really know. She never had shown any interest in her male classmates and she had made a promise to remain chaste until marriage – she wore a simple silver ring on her right hand as a token of that promise. Besides, she was an athlete, artist, and musician – she did not have time for such nonsense.

She chewed her lip watching other freshman filing past the gates – all of them had evidently just discovered makeup, wearing it so thickly that their faces were obscured. Each of them wore enough foundation that their skin appeared to be a completely different tone on their face than the rest of their body. It was evident they also had paid careful attention to their hair - some of them dyed their hair brown, others had straightened the life out of their hair. By comparison, Ohtori felt frumpy – her own hair was cut shorter, just long enough to hold back in a ponytail, to keep it from being unruly while playing tennis. All of the girls were also noticeably shorter than her – but more than that, they were petite. Even before Ohtori had her growth spurt, she had never really been petite – her shoulders were especially broad and she did not have dainty wrists and ankles.

What stood out most to Ohtori was that there was not a fine white gold cross adorning each of the students’ necks. She was used to going to school with her cross displayed rather than hidden under her uniform. Every day at her last school started with an hour for morning mass and time for contemplation before class. Moving to a secular school was more of a shock than any of the girls could have been – the cute, made up, petite girls that were widely preferred by the opposite sex were in great supply everywhere.

It was a nice spring morning, though – they were nearing the end of the cherry blossom season, but it appeared as though the trees on the campus were still holding on to the last of their petals. The soft, but distinct fragrance of the delicate flowers filled the air – warmed the air. It almost felt like summer.

“You lost?” The voice startled her out of her thoughts and she turned her attention to the girl standing directly behind her. Her uniform indicated that she was a second year, her bag that she was on the tennis team. Her silky, nearly ebony brown hair was pulled back carelessly in a ponytail and she wore a vibrant blue ballcap that clashed horribly with the soft colors of the Hyoutei winter uniform. Unlike the first years Ohtori had been observing, the upperclassman did not seem concerned with caking her face in makeup – or wearing it at all. She didn’t look too pleased to be stopping to help some New Girl.

Said New Girl reflexively bowed her head and shoulders, becoming instantly self-conscious of their height difference – it had to be almost a full head. Her upperclassman was average height and slender giving the illusion that she was smaller than she really was, to make matters worse. “I’m sorry – it’s my first day. I don’t mean to loiter.” She straightened and gave a small apologetic smile. “I was just on my way to turn in an application for the tennis club…”

The other girl shrugged. “I’m not the loitering police.” Thinking about it, she really didn’t look like the hall monitor or disciplinary committee type. Her shirt was not properly tucked into her skirt, a fact that was cleverly disguised by the way she wore the sweater vest of her uniform. “But, if you’re going to the tennis club, I can show you.” She motioned over her shoulder with a flick of her head that made her ponytail bob. “It’s this way.” She did not wait for Ohtori to decide to follow her before she started walking, but out of a habit of obedience, Ohtori did. “It’s Shishido Ryoko, by the way.”

Shishido. She would probably be following this person around for at least a couple of days while she was learning the ropes, so she took care to burn the name into her memory.

“Ohtori Chou. My first name is written like ‘butterfly,’” Ohtori elaborated, drawing the character in the air.

“Is there any other way to write it?” The older girl frowned as she spoke, her voice creeping up in pitch with uncertainty.

“…No, I guess not.” And that was not the way she had wanted to start off making friends at her new school – by looking completely lame in front of the first upperclassman she met.

Thankfully for her, her upperclassman just laughed it off. “Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s still nice to meet you, Ohtori.”

Ohtori nodded, feeling something swelling in her chest knowing that she had her upperclassman on her side. “You too, Shishido-san.”

“Oh – don’t call me that, that’s awful. It’s stuffy.” Shishido tugged on her tennis bag, though it immediately slid back to where it had been before on her slight shoulder. The bag was some sort of soft blue polyester with black and white accents and the name of the school emblazoned on the side in white embroidery. Maybe she was one of the “regulars” – the girls who had a permanent spot on the lineup for every tournament. Ohtori had heard horror stories about how hard it was to earn that distinction in a tennis club of 200 girls. One failure and you were out of the rotation – continued success and you could sit atop the whole school. She wondered what that person was like – the person who was the strongest out of the 200 girls that aimed to gain the distinction of being “Queen” at Hyoutei.

Before Ohtori could protest that it was the proper way to address Shishido and she would really be more comfortable that way, they were approached by a very vertically challenged girl with strikingly red hair. Her uniform was a mess – it made Shishido look proper by comparison. She also wore slouch socks over sneakers, something that Ohtori herself had not done since her young childhood. Somehow, though, it suited the girl – it was spunky. “Hey, Ryoko,” she drawled, yawning just after she did. Maybe “Shishido-san” was a bit stuffy, after all. “Where’s Ji-chan?” The redhead (also a second year from the look of things) fell into step with them.

“Skipping morning practice again, probably. Sleeping in like you.”

Shishido’s words obviously ruffled some feathers. “Che, doesn’t matter ‘cause I could beat you in my sleep.” Only then did she notice Ohtori who had been feeling pretty conspicuous, anyway. How would one miss a girl who was taller than almost everyone else in the school? “Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Ohtori Chou,” she said with a bow of her head – she really couldn’t manage much more and safely walk at the same time. “It’s my first day.”

“Mukahi Chigako. Nice to meetcha.” The redhead was also carrying one of the tennis bags that presumably belonged to the regulars from the club – so then she was on the team with Shishido. Part of Ohtori wondered if Hyoutei’s feared tennis team was actually abnormally short. Her own height had been a major advantage in developing the fastest serve on the circuit and being an imposing block when it was her turn up to the net. But she lacked in other areas, like speed and offense, which was precisely why she favored doubles. As though she were psychic, Mukahi chose that moment to ask, “Hey – so do you play doubles?”

“Chigako,” Shishido grumbled, rolling her eyes skyward.

“I… yes.” Ohtori glanced out of the corner of her eye at her upperclassman, wondering why the question offended her.

“Perfect!” Mukahi elbowed Shishido hard, nearly throwing her off-step. “Now you won’t have to be partnered up with Taki!”

The notion was obviously not one that Shishido thought was up for discussion, nor did she seem too thrilled with the suggestion in the first place. But if there was a chance she would get to play doubles, if there was going to be an opening to be Shishido’s partner, Ohtori thought the transition to a new school wouldn’t be so bad after all.

As expected from everything she heard about Hyoutei, practice was grueling, but rewarding – the freshman spent most of the practice either running laps, doing suicides or practice swings, or just assisting the regulars with their practice by doing all of the menial tasks such as gathering balls and setting up cones. As it turned out, “Ji-chan,” was also one of the regulars – Akutagawa Shiori – who only showed up to practice in the afternoons and the occasional morning when she could be bothered to wake up on time for practice. Mukahi explained that Akutagawa was “narcoleptic or something,” and that when she was awake, she had more energy than the rest of them combined. Apparently, she was also somewhat of an otaku, though what she was fangirling Mukahi did not explain.

It was Hiyoshi Wakaba, a first year in Ohtori’s class, that explained why Mukahi called Akutagawa by the nonsensical nickname. “She misread her name. Mukahi-senpai read the ‘Shi’ as ‘Ji’ when she saw it written out in Hiragana.” Apparently after that, the nickname stuck. Akutagawa was just too lazy (or too laid back) to correct the mispronunciation.

They were seated next to one another in Ohtori’s class, by a grand stroke of luck, so she had someone to talk to while they were eating lunch. Hiyoshi was not as overtly pretty as some of the other girls, but she made up for it in drive – Ohtori could not remember meeting a more pragmatic person. She was one of the two youngest members of the regular line-up on Hyoutei’s tennis team and claimed that her driving factor was to dethrone the reigning queen of Hyoutei – Atobe Keiko. Ohtori had yet to see anything of their captain, but it seemed like everyone in the school knew who Atobe was and had an opinion of her. What Ohtori had gathered so far is that she was rich, exotic, terrifying on the court, and a pompous bitch. Yet, everyone who spoke of her (even Hiyoshi) did so with such fondness and love in their voice.

“So you’ll be coming, right?” Hiyoshi asked suddenly, picking at her rice with her chopsticks. Whoever had prepared her lunch had taken great care to arrange the food nicely – the little sausages were even cut to resemble octopi. Ohtori imagined her expression must have been completely blank because Hiyoshi snickered to herself. “I mean to the match. We have a tournament coming up in a few weeks – you should come cheer us all on. It’s a huge production, because of Buchou. She always gets the crowd going.”

Ohtori smiled, leaning a bit closer to Hiyoshi’s desk. “Are you playing in the tournament?”

The other girl tilted her head to the side. “It’s up to Buchou,” she said after a long pause. “They’re talking about putting me in doubles with Mukahi-senpai, depending upon how things go in this tournament. Mukahi-senpai is paired with Oshitari-senpai, normally.” There was another name that Ohtori had heard plenty about – Oshitari Yuuki. From all accounts, the girl had a following at the school. It seemed strange to Ohtori, but apparently Oshitari received a plethora of gifts on Valentine’s Day from the other girls at the school and many claimed that they wanted to be her “girlfriend.” Some of the girls were whispering about Oshitari at practice that morning – one of them was planning to confess love.

The girls at her last school were always whispering about the boys they liked, but not offering up any actual details to avoid looking like they were too interested (only to be called sluts behind their backs by the other girls, anyway). It was different, at Hyoutei – boys had not really been mentioned at all that day. Maybe there was something to be said for segregated gender learning, after all. Or maybe the only type of people who went to an all-girls school were like that. Ohtori felt heat rising to her cheeks thinking about it.

“Don’t tell me,” Hiyoshi said leaning back in her chair and folding her arms over her chest. “It’s your first day and you’re already in love with Oshitari-senpai?”

“Huh? Wh- No!” Ohtori blushed more, only looking more suspicious. Hiyoshi didn’t let it go for the rest of the week.

There were few places to truly achieve privacy on campus when it came time for Ohtori to practice playing violin. On most days, the music room itself was occupied by classes or by someone wishing to practice on the grand piano. There were sound-proofed practice rooms lining the hallway outside the music room, but they were always booked in advance for particular students and the schedules looked full for the next few months, at the very least. Ohtori checked back periodically every few days, but it quickly became clear that if she wanted to practice on campus, she was going to need to find good acoustics somewhere else.

The first obvious option was to use one of the bathrooms, but she already felt enough like an outcast just by being new to the school without being subjected to the public ridicule that would certainly follow if she were to practice in the bathrooms. Most of the classrooms were out of the question because of their shape – they would not carry the sound well (not to mention, it would be horribly disruptive to other students trying to study). The dining hall did not seem like such a bad option, but the theatre club would meet there on breaks when they did not have enough time to make it down to the performing arts building that was separate from the rest of the school on the massive campus. During club time, when the dining hall was generally open, Ohtori was with the tennis team.

She had resigned herself to practicing at home when one day she noticed the building on her way out of the school – she had no idea how she had managed to look past it before. It was a traditional design with a steeply slanted roof and a large, wooden cross adorning the front of the building. If there was a chapel on campus, it would be perfect for acoustics. And chances were at a secular school, the building was not receiving much use most of the time. It was a bit off the beaten path, but she would have somewhere to practice when she could take breaks during the school day or if there was no club.

The very first time she practiced there it was after tennis practice the day before the big tournament. The regulars were held behind to discuss the tournament with the coach and Atobe, but the rest of the club was dismissed earlier than normal. Ohtori made her way to the chapel, finding it empty just as she hoped. The interior was beautiful in the late spring sun – the light filtering through the stained glass cast bits of color across the pews and hardwood floor. A statue of the Virgin Mary stood before her at the end of the aisle, her head bowed in deep contemplation. Ohtori went to her, speaking a few words of prayer softly, and then made herself comfortable at the end of the aisle.

She had been working on the piece for months – the tryouts for the Tokyo Junior Orchestra were coming up at the end of the summer, and she was bound and determined to have the piece polished by the time they did. Ohtori was quick to lose herself in the piece, closing her eyes and just playing from the heart. She had memorized it long ago, it was one of her favorites by Bach – she listened to it many times as a child and picked it up easily as a teenager, despite the difficulty of the piece.

She was startled to receive applause for her performance. She opened her eyes to see Shishido sitting only a few feet away on one of the pews. She had respectfully removed her cap and her hair fell loose about her shoulders. Her tennis bag sat upright beside her, as though it were another person in the audience. “That was awesome.” She smiled, motioning to the violin with one hand. “What was that – Mozart?”

“Bach,” Ohtori corrected shyly. “Ciaccona,” she added, taking her violin away from her shoulder and holding it near her side.

“Ah – guess I don’t know the difference.” Shishido looked sheepish. “I never pay attention in music class.” Even so, the Ciaccona, the fifth and most famous movement of one of Bach’s most revered pieces, seemed like something that everyone ought to know. Ohtori recognized that she had the unfair advantage of studying music her whole life, of course. “But you’re really good – do you moonlight as a pro violinist?”

“Thank you, Shishido-san.” She ignored the exasperated look. “I’m trying out for the Junior Orchestra in a few months,” Ohtori explained. She went about putting away her violin and went to sit in the pew in front of her upperclassman, turning her body to face Shishido. “It still needs a lot of work.” She tilted her head to the side as it occurred to her that she had told no one where she would be after practice. “How did you find me in here? I was hoping not to disturb anyone by practicing here.”

Shishido motioned over her shoulder with one hand. “I heard music, so I came to check it out.” She laughed lightly, raising an eyebrow. “But how could you disturb anyone with that? You’re awesome.”

Ohtori chuckled in return, shaking her head. “Says the one who didn’t even recognize the piece.”

Shishido’s brow furrowed and her lips twisted into a pout. “Well – I know good music when I hear it, okay?”

A compliment was a compliment, though. Ohtori continued to smile, glancing down at the wooden pew. The pews looked new and unused… the pews Ohtori was used to were aged and well-worn with obvious smooth spots where many people proceeding her sat and the occasional declaration of love in the form of an etching in the wood. She looked back at Shishido to see that her upperclassman was still pouting – it was cute when she did it, but such an expression didn’t suit her. “I’ll be at your match tomorrow,” Ohtori said quietly.

“Oh yeah?” Her upperclassman lifted her eyes to look back at Ohtori. “Root for me.”

“Definitely.”

The atmosphere at tennis club on Monday afternoon, their next practice with full attendance from the regulars no thanks to Akutagawa, was palpably tense. It reminded Ohtori of the sort of summer days where it would rain in the morning and then be so humid and hot in the afternoon that it was simply difficult to breathe. The regulars were not speaking to one another – Atobe and Shishido in particular seemed to be exceptionally moody. Atobe was often fairly moody – but with an unruly team like hers, Ohtori couldn’t really blame her.

The doubles game had gone well – the doubles pair of Oshitari and Mukahi worked pretty well together, but Taki and Hiyoshi were much shakier. Taki, who was probably the most dramatic member of the team, was frustrated with the narrow margin that they had to claim victory. She was still arguing with Hiyoshi about who was really responsible for their failures. This was an early season game, after all – against Fudomine, she stressed as though it was significant.

But it meant that the way was paved for Shishido to play in singles one. Unfortunately, that was where things turned sour. In a spectacular over-estimation of her speed and strength, Shishido was beaten sorely by Fudomine’s captain Tachibana. It was a 0-6 loss for Hyoutei – something that was not tolerated. Normally, a regular with such a loss would be removed from the team and the next standby would be asked to practice with the regulars. Shishido knew her spot was in trouble.

When Sakaki approached Ohtori near the end of practice, her heart sank into her stomach with a solid “thud” when it hit the bottom. The other regulars stood around them in various stages of finishing up their regular practice exercises for the day. Shishido was crouched by her bag, sifting through the contents as though she was looking for something. “Ohtori-kun,” Sakaki began, folding his arms over his chest. “I would like to offer you a position on the regulars.”

At first, she had no idea how to respond. She started to stutter out an excuse to not make the decision right away, but was interrupted by Mukahi. “That’s awesome!” She thumped Ohtori on the back in what was probably meant to be a playful pat but nearly knocked the wind out of Ohtori. If Mukahi could bottle that enthusiasm and sell it, she would make millions.

“Chigako,” Oshitari murmured, a hint of a warning in her voice. Her hair was a mess from practice and sweat gleamed on her forehead, but she still looked enviably beautiful with her true black hair and her dark eyes. She was wearing her usual “Harry Potter glasses” (so she had described them). The strange thing was that Ohtori was under the impression that Oshitari could actually see just fine without them. She was too afraid to ask – she felt like it was probably one of the trade secrets that made Oshitari one of the most popular girls at school. Now speaking to the coach, Oshitari added, “That’s unprecedented, promoting a first year who is so new to the team to the regulars.”

“It was you, once,” Atobe put in, stepping forward with her hands on her hips. She glanced at Oshitari from below blonde eyelashes. Her eyes were the clearest shade of grey-blue that Ohtori had ever known. “And you may remember I took over captaincy on my first day of school.” She gave a small smile, looking at Ohtori. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Normal people don’t walk into school and declare themselves Queen,” Oshitari pointed out under her breath. It did not escape Atobe’s notice.

“Coach,” Ohtori said, putting her teammates out of her mind for a moment. They were going to continue to squabble regardless of anything she said or did. “There isn’t an open spot on the regulars.”

“There is.” That was all Sakaki said. With that, he went to chase off a few students who were loitering around to see what was going on with the club.

Atobe was now distracted – her attention turned to Shishido. Ohtori followed her eyes to see that Shishido was now kneeling on the court. Her hair was still pulled back in its usual ponytail, but she had removed her hat. In her hand was something shiny – something metal. Something sharp.

In unison, she and Atobe moved closer to Shishido. “Ryoko,” Atobe said just as Ohtori was saying, “Shishido-san.”

She did not respond. The others had not taken notice. Taki was now gossiping with the others about how she overheard Sakaki dismissing Shishido from the club – that her defeat was an embarrassment to the club and their school and that she would not be welcome with her attitude and abilities. Ohtori felt a small tremor develop in her; no one deserved to hear those words. Shishido was no doubt heartbroken and feeling worthless. That’s why it was bad that she had something sharp and pointy. With a glance at Atobe, Ohtori could tell Atobe was thinking the same thing.

Shishido reached one hand behind her head taking hold of the ponytail. In her other hand, she lifted the pointy object – scissors. Ohtori only realized what she was going to do when it was too late – the scissors cut through the hair just above the tie that held the ponytail and it dropped limply in Shishido’s hand. Her hair was left jagged and in desperate need of being properly cut. She turned to look at them both, her eyes bright and her brow set in determination. It was not the picture of heartbreak that Ohtori had expected.

“Whoa – Ryoko!” Mukahi pressed herself up against the fence surrounding the court. “What the hell?”

“Oh my god, you look so cool!” Akutagawa joined Mukahi at the fence, looping her fingers around the chain link. “You could even go shorter – that would be super cool. I bet you’d look just like an idol!”

They were missing the point. “Ryoko,” Atobe began, her face serious. “You excel in doubles – you knew that.”

Shishido nodded. “Yeah, but I’m going to have to work on that, too, if I’m going to get back on the team.”

“No you won’t!” Ohtori interjected, slipping back out of the courts and past her upperclassmen that were standing by the fence. She intercepted Sakaki as he was headed back to the school building. “Coach,” she said, bowing deeply just a mite too quickly and paying the price for it with blood rushing to her head. “I would like to forfeit my position on the team.” Never mind that it had been one of the things she was working toward since the first day she arrived at Hyoutei. Never mind that it was a real honor to receive the distinction of being hand-picked by the coach to be on the team. “Please allow Shishido-san to fill my spot on the roster,” she begged, not looking up from how she was bowed.

“Interesting,” murmured Sakaki. “And what do you think of this?”

Shishido’s voice came from much closer than Ohtori expected. “I… can’t accept this. I will need to work hard to earn a spot back on the team.”

Ohtori straightened and turned to look at her upperclassman. She really did look like an idol with her hair in such a choppy, layered cut. “But I wouldn’t want to be on the team if you’re not there,” she insisted. “I need your guidance if I’m going to pursue doubles. You’re the best on the team when it comes to doubles.” She could not help but feeling like she really ought to close her mouth before she spouted any more unsolicited compliments.

The older girl at first looked stunned – her lips parting slightly and her eyes widening. It gave way to confusion as her brow creased and her lips twisted into a pout once more. “You’re really…”

“Don’t you see?” Atobe seemed to come out of nowhere, stepping between the two girls and their coach. “This is what I told you would happen. It’s an ideal situation.” She looked like some sort of Greek goddess with her hair in perfect, loose, movie star curls around her shoulders and her hands rested imperiously on her hips. It was as though she had known this would happen – as though she had already devised a work-around before Ohtori even offered to give up her spot. Atobe’s insightfulness was notorious, but it was still shocking to see it happening first-hand.

Sakaki nodded, looking to Shishido. “Then Shishido keeps her spot. You two will be working on doubles,” he looked to Ohtori as he said this. “Taki, you may turn in your jersey.”

“What?” Taki sputtered, the beginnings of a full protest bubbling out of her mouth before she was interrupted.

“The decision is final. You are all dismissed.” With that, he was gone.

Ohtori turned her attention to Taki. She wanted to say something – to apologize for taking Taki’s slot on the roster. It was quite clear from the look on Taki’s face that she was not feeling much up to talking about their feelings.

Shishido smiled. “Keiko, you-“

The blonde shook her head, somehow not disturbing the natural way her hair lay against her body. “Don’t thank me yet.”

It did not take long for Hyoutei’s “Silver Pair,” to be well-adored amongst the students. When Ohtori and Shishido teamed up, no one could defeat them. As the weeks passed, they spent more time together off the court – they ate lunch together, often in Ohtori’s classroom since she was not allowed up onto the third floor where Shishido’s classroom was located. They would meet up when they were walking distance from school and walk the rest of the way together – their feet would fall at the same pace, Shishido in long strides, Ohtori in short strides. They always seemed to be doing the same thing at the same time when they were apart – a quick phone call would reveal that they had both just brushed their teeth.

The only thing Ohtori kept to herself was her violin practice, but even then she was often visited by Shishido who would sit for as long as it took for Ohtori to feel satisfied with her progress. She always removed her cap out of respect and would sit in the second pew beside her bag, just silently watching. She applauded after every performance. Sometimes, she would even stop to say something to the statue of Mary.

When Oshitari convinced Shishido that she really ought to get her hair cut, Ohtori and Shishido went together. They both went short – Shishido’s so short that it would naturally spike, Ohtori’s just long enough to lay more or less flat against her head. Shishido still looked just like an idol to Ohtori, even if she didn’t wear makeup and usually wore well-loved sneakers with her school uniform when they were walking together to school.

Saturday night, they decided, was movie night. It seemed like such a good idea at first, but then it came to actually going to the video rental store to pick something out. Their tastes were so different that they could not even reach an agreement when they were looking at a list of Ghibli films – Ohtori wanted to watch Grave of the Fireflies, Shishido had a preference for Princess Mononoke. Finally, Ohtori had a brilliant plan to resolve the dispute. They would each pick out their favorite movie and then have a second move night next week. That night, they would watch Shishido’s favorite movie, the next week, they could watch Ohtori’s. It seemed simple enough.

“But it’s not really just one movie, is the problem…” Shishido was explaining as she led them to the proper section of the video store – the Science Fiction and Fantasy aisle. “It’s more like a trilogy.” She picked up a bundle of DVD boxes that were held together by a rubber band and displayed it to Ohtori.

She tilted her head. “I’ve never seen it before.”

Shishido’s appeared to be utterly appalled. “You’ve never seen Star Wars? Everyone has seen Star Wars!”

“Not me,” Ohtori responded, a bit taken aback by Shishido’s sudden enthusiasm.

Needless to say, the indiscretion on Ohtori’s part was quickly remedied.

“What’s that?”

“Rosin. Try not to touch anything, Shishido-san.” Ohtori went through her purse to grab her wallet so she could pay for the rosin and get out of the store. Shishido was regarding the items on the shelves like they were shrunken heads rather than musical instruments and all the necessary items for their up-keep.

“This is boring,” Shishido declared. But, it had been her idea – since Ohtori sat through Star Wars despite all of her reservations, Shishido said she would come to the music supply store to pick up the things that Ohtori needed for her violin. It seemed like a fair trade-off at the time. And if Shishido thought this was boring, obviously she had not really been paying attention during Episode I.

Ohtori did not respond, getting in the line for the register.

“What’s this?”

“A double-reed – it’s probably for an oboe or bassoon.” Shishido took the information in, just examining the small plastic case that contained the reed. For someone who claimed to be bored, she sure was enjoying asking lots of questions. As Ohtori watched, her face suddenly brightened.

“I’ll get you this one!” She held up a book of sheet music – the composer was named John Williams. Ohtori knew the name, but she could not place it. “Will you play it for me if I buy it?”

Ohtori nodded. “Sure – once the tryouts are over, I can start learning new material.”

Shishido smiled to herself victoriously.

“Is this Star Wars music?” Ohtori asked, sitting next to the statute of Mary. Shishido had moved up to the first pew from her usual sitting place.

“Huh? Oh, what makes you think that? I just recognized the name of the composer, is all.” Shishido shrugged it off.

Ohtori turned the book to face her, clearly displaying, “The Theme from Star Wars,” to her doubles partner.

Shishido still looked unfazed. “What? I told you I know good music when I hear it.”

“So, you remember in Fantasia how they talked about music telling a story?”

Of course Ohtori remembered; she was the one who selected Fantasia as their movie over the past weekend. Shishido had suddenly taken a liking to classical music and Ohtori thought it was a decent introduction to classical music to show her a Disney movie that included many of the more famous pieces including Shishido’s favorite part, the dancing flowers during the Nutcracker Suite. She had been humming bars of it to herself ever since they watched the movie. Ohtori was just appalled that no one had dragged Shishido to the Nutcracker ballet before and promised that they would go together when it was more seasonal.

“Yeah,” Ohtori said agreeably running light rosin over her bow. When she was finished, she put the rosin back in the violin case in the small pouch intended for such things. She also kept an orange peel in there to help with the negative effects of humidity on the wood instrument and a pencil which she used to make notations to her sheet music. “Like in Sorcerer’s Apprentice, you mean?”

“That’s the one with Mickey, right?” Shishido leaned back in the pew, draping her arm over the back of the wood seat. The latest edition to her wardrobe was a large, clunky watch with a huge leather band. It was actually a men’s watch, but Shishido loved that it was unruly. She had no choice but to remove it when she played tennis – it limited the range of motion in her wrist. “Well, I was thinking – this piece you’re performing… does it tell a story?”

The Ciaccona was not a story piece – not exactly. Many hearing it for the first time would be moved to tears by the raw emotion, the melancholy that laced its way through the piece. “Not exactly,” Ohtori said, resting her violin on her shoulder and testing the tone with a few slow strokes of her bow over the strings. It sounded just a little bit sharp. She adjusted the strings as she continued to talk. “Bach wrote it after his wife passed away and many historians believe that the piece is inspired by his feelings about his wife’s passing.”

Shishido went quiet, turning that over in her head. “Huh,” she said finally after a pause. Ohtori watched her – waiting for her to finish her thought. “I guess I probably would have seen that if there were pictures to go with the music.”

Ohtori smiled. “Close your eyes, this time,” she suggested. “Maybe you’ll see something different.” Shishido complied with the request and Ohtori put the bow to strings.

The tennis season coming to an end was a relief. Ohtori and Shishido finished the season undefeated. They were able to compete in the National tournament, though they were not the ones who ultimately took home the championship title. Ohtori expected Atobe to be disappointed with how things went, but she actually seemed to be genuinely happy for the winners. Wednesday afternoon, a few days after the tournament was over, Ohtori overheard Atobe on her cell phone speaking with a florist requesting that they send flowers to the winning school with a nice message regarding their match. The sheer number of flowers, she thought Atobe said ten dozen red roses, was what left an impression on Ohtori. Her captain was just full of surprises.

But as the tennis season came to a close, it gave Ohtori the time to focus more on her violin. She played the Ciaccona beautifully at her audition and was offered a spot in the Junior Orchestra. They were starting her at second chair violin – she would be playing the same part as the first chair violinist who was a year her senior and had been with the Junior Orchestra for five years. It was quite a distinction and an honor. The music teacher at school encouraged her to use one of the private practice rooms on campus, even offering to rearrange the schedule to make one available, but Ohtori insisted that she had the perfect practice spot. She enjoyed having Shishido with her to listen in.

But her time was still divided between violin and the upcoming school festival. Their class was considering doing a haunted house (something that Ohtori was not so sure she was going to be able to handle… she startled easily) championed by Hiyoshi who insisted that it was their opportunity to get the better of the upperclassmen. “Everyone will be doing a maid café,” she explained, over lunch, sure that her logic was flawless. “If we do a haunted house, it’ll be something different. We could all dress like zombies like in The House of the Dead 2!” She looked enthused by the prospect.

On the other hand, Mukahi who had joined them for lunch that day looked less thrilled. “Are you still going on about that game?”

“Scared, Mukahi-san?” Hiyoshi leaned a bit closer, smiling devilishly.

“No!” Mukahi flushed the color of her hair, poking moodily at her food with her chopsticks. “But if you’re going to wear makeup like that, why not just do a zombie maid café, or something.”

Ohtori smiled. “That’s an interesting idea, Mukahi-senpai.” She took a drink of her water, glancing at the clock to see how much time they had left on lunch. Seventeen minutes – not long enough to try to meet Shishido at the chapel and practice.

“You gonna be okay by yourself in the Maid Café of the Undead?” Hiyoshi asked ominously, her voice distant and dark like the Crypt Keeper.

Mukahi swatted at Hiyoshi’s shoulder in protest. “Yuuki said she’d walk around with me – she’ll be the one that’s scared.”

“Good call bringing someone tall to hide behind.”

“Wakaba!”

Ohtori smiled, looking between them. “I think it’s a good idea, actually,” she put in. “It’s a compromise, since a lot of the others want to do the café. We could all wear the spooky makeup with our maid uniforms.” Shishido would probably think it was super cool, too – she liked those sorts of movies, like Night of the Living Dead. They watched it in October in celebration of Halloween, which Ohtori admittedly knew nothing about. Shishido told her it was a holiday where people in the Western world dressed up like monsters and went around asking strangers for candy – and got it. Shishido sounded thrilled about it, but Ohtori wondered if it was really so safe for children to be going around asking complete strangers for candy. It sounded like the start of a safety video about “Stranger Danger.”

It was a little more difficult to convince their teacher of their master plan than it was to convince Hiyoshi and Ohtori that it sounded like fun, but the rest of the class was on-board for the zombie maid café. Hiyoshi and Ohtori were voted to take charge of the project.

The day before the festival, the first floor of the main building was busier than an airport during Golden Week. Ohtori and her parents went to Hawaii a few years back for Golden Week and it had been a nightmare to navigate the airport between all of the holiday travelers and the sheer popularity of their destination. Girls were darting in and out of classrooms with supplies, costumes, and food. One of the first year classes was going to be putting on a play – it sounded like they had chosen a play about a princess because they were all talking about how pretty she looked in her fairy tale dress. Ohtori was even approached to ask if she could play the prince since she was tall and had short hair. She refused – her own class project was going to be consuming much of her time over the course of the festival.

But that was how she came to encounter Kabaji in the hall while Ohtori was on her way to get changed into her costume for the café for a final fitting. Kabaji was dressed in what appeared to be a prince’s costume complete with a silky white cape with gold lining. Her short, black hair had been spiked up and back to give it a more masculine appearance. She was the very picture of a prince. It was a wonder that she had not been picked above Ohtori to be approached for the role first.

When Kabaji noticed Ohtori staring at her, Ohtori lifted her hand in greeting with a smile. “You look handsome,” she assured.

“Thank you,” Kabaji murmured, though she looked like she felt more embarrassed than handsome.

“Of course she does,” Atobe agreed, stepping out from the classroom beside Kabaji. She had a way of just appearing right when you least expected her – today dressed head to toe in the most beautiful dress Ohtori had ever seen. Her lively curls were done up in a complicated arrangement on her head. The ice blue of her dress brought out the stunning color of her eyes. Unlike most of Ohtori’s classmates, Atobe had curves – she filled out the dress nicely, her bosom nearly spilling out of the corset. “Who could be better suited to the role of prince?”

“Buchou… are you going to be in the play, too?” Ohtori held her own costume against her chest – a maid outfit with some artistic tears and grime for an undead sort of effect.

Atobe laughed at the very notion, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “Heavens, no. I am playing the part of Sleeping Beauty in my classes’ play.” She motioned to her dress with one hand. “This is my final costume change of the night – don’t you like it?”

“Very much,” Ohtori assured quickly. “Who is going to be playing the prince, then? Your class doesn’t have many tall girls.”

If she had been thrilled about her costume, Atobe was less thrilled about the answer to Ohtori’s question. “Yuuki is. Ryoko is her understudy, so we can only hope that Yuuki comes down with dysentery.”

Ohtori laughed lightly. “It seems like most people would be glad for Oshitari-san to be their prince.” She must have said the wrong thing – Atobe looked even less pleased. Ohtori quickly offered, “But anyone would want you to be their princess, Buchou.”

Her ego was satisfied. Atobe nodded in agreement. “Of course they would.” She motioned to Kabaji. “Come, Kabaji. I need to practice my lines.”

“Yes,” Kabaji said agreeably and they disappeared into another classroom to practice.

“Huh – it actually turned out okay,” Mukahi said as she was lead into the classroom by Hiyoshi. She was looking around warily at the decorations – all the same ones the class would have used for the haunted house. She was stuck playing the part of one of the three fairies in Sleeping Beauty that night, so she was able to wander around with Oshitari during the day to check out all of the games, booths, and food offerings from all of the various classes. “Don’t you think so, Yuuki?”

Oshitari was not really paying attention, watching one of the waitresses serving cake and tea to one of their patrons. Her skirt lifted as she leaned forward to serve the cake to a girl sitting at the farthest seat. Ohtori could only imagine that the girl was getting an eyeful of cleavage just as much as Oshitari had taken an interest in the layers of lace ruffles that lay beneath the black skirt preserving her dignity.

To her credit, Mukahi just rolled her eyes. “You didn’t even hear me.”

“Hm?” Oshitari glanced back to Mukahi. “Was it important?”

“Obviously not.”

Ohtori butted in, stepping forward to greet them. “Would the two of you like a table?” She felt a bit self-conscious about the length of the skirt now that she was wearing it – it had been designed for a shorter girl, so it did not do a good job of covering her long legs. The rips and tears only made matters worse. “We have an opening over by Count Dracula.” She politely gestured to a table for two nestled in a corner where there was a coffin with a white hand peeking out from under the lid.

“That’s perfect.” Oshitari looked back to her doubles partner. “Tell me if you’re scared – I’ll hold you.”

“Stop kidding around!” Mukahi flushed red and stormed over to the table. She yanked the chair out and sat abruptly as though the furniture offended her as much as Oshitari did. She was the reigning champion of overreaction. Bemusedly, Oshitari followed.

“I’ve got this one.” Without leaving room for argument, Hiyoshi followed their upperclassmen over to the table.

Well, then. Ohtori went back to the entry way of the classroom, ready to greet their next guest. She could see through the hall window that there was quite a crowd outside for the carnival games being sponsored by the various clubs. Atobe made the mistake of volunteering herself for a kissing booth to raise money for the tennis club. Needless to say, they would be wearing new uniforms next year. It looked like it was the most popular booth in the whole school.

“Hey, Chou.” Shishido was suddenly standing right beside her. She must have been lost in her thoughts. “Is this the zombie café I keep hearing about?”

Ohtori smiled. “Thanks for coming to check it out.”

“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?” Shishido surveyed the classroom curiously, taking in the decorations and the attire of the servers. Eventually, she looked back to Ohtori and very slowly took in her outfit, admiring the details. “You know… I never really noticed. But, you, uh – you have legs.”

“I… have legs.” Ohtori just stared at her. That should not have been a revelation.

“…So, what’s on the menu? I’m hungry.”

After viewing the (splendid, naturally) performances by Atobe, Oshitari, and Kabaji, Ohtori was free to join her classmates in celebrating the end of their school festival. There was a large fire burning outside and many of the girls were dancing around the fire or sitting around chatting and drinking soda. There was a live DJ, something Ohtori never saw in her middle school festivals, and most of the girls could actually dance very well, another rarity. She knew very well she had two left feet and that no one really wanted to see someone who still had her zombie make-up on dancing around a fire in the moonlight, anyway. It sounded like a bad omen if Ohtori had ever heard of one.

So, she sat on the cold grass sipping her soda, instead. The grass felt like it was wet, but she knew it was just cold enough to fool her skin into believing that it was actually wet. The soda, on the other hand, was sweating in her hand and was just a little too cold for the cool early-November air.

“There you are.” Shishido plopped down next to Ohtori, sitting with her legs crossed, regardless of the fact that she was wearing a skirt. She was wearing the hat she normally wore during tennis – it was turned backwards so her eyes were not obscured. Her eyes were dark brown and walnut shaped and they always betrayed her when she was trying to hide something. Ohtori always thought it was a good quality to be a bad liar. “You know, you’ve looked better.”

Ohtori laughed, nodding her head. “The make-up is pretty gruesome, huh?” She pulled her knees up to her chest and loosely wrapped her arms around them, holding onto the can with one hand. “I’m glad it’s over, though. I was surprised by how popular the café was, though.”

“Probably because it wasn’t like anything else.” Shishido’s eyes seemed to linger near Ohtori’s knees. “Hey… do you always wear that ring? I’ve noticed it before.” She reached out to take Ohtori’s hand, her thumb passing over the top of the chastity ring. The inside of the ring was inscribed to speak of the promise – from the outside, it appeared to be a simple silver band with a cross etched into one side. “Present from your boyfriend, or something?”

Ohtori’s cheeks heated. “You know I don’t have a boyfriend,” she protested. Her upperclassman had not yet released her hand. “It’s a purity ring. I promised myself that I would wait until marriage.” It had only been a few years since she was encouraged to consider making such a promise by her grandmother who said she had done the same thing before she met her grandfather. She was told that it was important to make the promise before she really went into puberty and it became more difficult to think clearly about matters involving sex. From the way her grandmother described it, any moment now she was going to spontaneously combust from the sheer pressure of hormones attacking her from within. There really weren’t any boys in particular she was interested in, though – less so since she started at an all girls school.

“Oh.” The expression that crossed Shishido’s face was difficult to read, but Ohtori took it to mean that she was either impressed or contemplative. She did not release Ohtori’s hand and Ohtori didn’t ask her to. “What if you really liked someone?”

It was a reasonable question – one she had been asked before by family, friends, classmates… pretty much anyone who knew about her ring. “If I really liked someone, there might be hand holding, hugs, kisses, that sort of thing.” Even though she had been presented with the question plenty of times, she never really put forth any deep contemplation toward it. “And if I really wanted to be with them, I would be marrying them.” The whole point was to save herself for the person she would marry so on the night of their wedding, they consummated their relationship for the first time.

It was obvious that Shishido had something to say about it – she probably disagreed with the idea, many people did. “I respect that,” she began, though it sounded like there was an unspoken, “but…” tacked on at the end.

“It’s okay if you don’t agree with it,” Ohtori assured her. She closed her fingers, wrapping them around Shishido’s hand. Her hand was small and slim – it was strangely feminine compared to the rest of her.

“It’s not like that.” Shishido quite suddenly looked at Ohtori, her expression intense. It reminded Ohtori of the crime dramas where the lawyer would be grilling the witness and he would have such a strong expression on his face that Ohtori was squirming just watching someone else get questioned. “I wonder what it would be like to want you so much, but know that you had to wait.”

“Sh-Shishido-san!” Ohtori blubbered out, flushing crimson.

“What? What’d I say?” Shishido looked just as surprised and flustered as Ohtori felt.

Neither spoke a word for a few heartbeats while the music continued to blast in the background and the girls continued to dance. None of them were aware of the conversation taking place on the grass.

When the tension became too much, they both laughed.

“Stag party at my house,” Shishido announced, plopping down into a chair in Ohtori’s classroom. She rifled through her bag to grab her lunch – it was a cheese sandwich sectioned into four triangular quadrants. She wore the sweater of the winter uniform, but her sleeves were rolled up over her elbows. There was a band aid on her left arm about half-way up her arm where her dog got just a bit too playful, jumped on her, and scratched her with his nails. He didn’t mean to, he really was a well-behaved dog, but he liked Shishido the best out of the whole family. He was still warming up to Ohtori, even after they had been spending tons of time together for months.

Hiyoshi sighed heavily, looking through the mail on her cell phone. “I’m in,” she grumbled, snapping the phone shut. “Mukahi-senpai’s probably going to be hanging out with Oshitari-senpai again this year.” She looked back at her bento glumly, but Ohtori thought it looked pretty good. It looked better than the cheese sandwich Shishido brought for lunch, in any case. At least her bento had vegetables in it. As best as Ohtori could tell, Shishido was allergic to anything that was green. That was the only remaining explanation as to why she never ate anything green.

Shishido motioned to Hiyoshi with a triangle of sandwich. “Well, and Keiko always has to do something with her parents. I think Kabaji always goes to that.”

“Akutagawa-senpai has tickets to a concert,” Hiyoshi added. “She did say she had an extra ticket, but I thought she was inviting you, Shishido-senpai.”

Ohtori finally cleared her throat and interrupted. “What’s a stag party?” She had never heard the term before, but from the sound of things they were talking about either Christmas Eve or Christmas. A lot of the girls in the school were trying to set up dates with their boyfriends and were really excited for the prospect.

“It’s where you eat KFC, Christmas cake, and feel sorry for yourself since you’re alone on Christmas,” Hiyoshi explained, still miserably examining her bento.

Shishido frowned. “Not exactly – it’s a party for singles on Christmas. You know, so they don’t have to be alone. Everyone else goes out with their boyfriends, friends, family, whatever.”

Just like Ohtori thought.

“We celebrate Christmas,” she said apologetically. “I won’t be able to come. But… you know, you could probably come over if you wanted to, Shishido-san. Mom’s going to roast chicken. It will probably be better than KFC. And there’s no Christmas cake.”

“No cake?”

“So the party’s off…” Hiyoshi leaned back in her chair, turning her head to look out the classroom door to the students milling around outside.

“Well, I guess there could be cake.”

“Do you bake?”

“Hey, guys.” Hiyoshi leaned forward between Shishido and Ohtori. They both fell silent. “So… I’ll see if I can go with Akutagawa-senpai to the concert in your place, okay?” Shishido nodded agreeably – now that she had other plans for the holiday, she wouldn’t be able to go to the concert.

“I won’t use them. I’m probably gonna stay over at Chou’s on Christmas Eve.”

“S-Stay over?” Ohtori didn’t recall actually asking Shishido if that was how she wanted to spend her Christmas Eve, at least not the staying over part, but something about the very thought was fluttery, like butterfly wings in her stomach.

Shishido had been in Ohtori’s room plenty of times before – even at night; never in her pajamas (well, undershirt and boxers), and certainly never with the intent of staying the night. Ohtori owned only night gowns and nightshirts – during the winter, she always wore her flannel long nightshirts. She felt frumpy next to Shishido who had the boxers rolled once and the undershirt fit her nicely. It may have been a tomboyish look, but she somehow made it look sexy.

Never once in her life had she said that word, let alone thought it of someone. And that was why she had hurried to go through her bedtime routine to get them both tucked into bed with the lights off and the blankets up where she could not dwell on the strength in Shishido’s calves or the appealing curve of her backside. She also could not remember ever thinking of anyone’s backside as particularly appealing before and the thought frightened her a bit.

“Hey, Chou.” Shishido rolled over. Their legs brushed under the blanket – Shishido’s legs were smooth. “So, you said you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“I don’t.” The blankets moved as Shishido shifted around to get comfortable and tugged at the fabric of Ohtori’s nightshirt. “Even if I did, I would spend Christmas this way.”

“With your family?”

“With… my family, yes.” Ohtori kicked herself for that one, but it just seemed to forward to say it. It confused her that Shishido’s body was so warm and so close and that she could feel Shishido’s big toe resting on her ankle.

The room was still quiet – enough so that she heard the tap turn out in the bathroom where her younger sister was probably getting ready for bed.

“…Shishido-san?” She felt a warm arm drop around her shoulder and hot breath against her cheek. Her pillow sunk in under the weight of Shishido’s head. The toe against her ankle became a knee rested against her inner thigh. “Shishido-san? Are you awake?” There was still no response – Shishido’s forehead pressed against her jaw.

It was warm – very comfortable. She could not escape the fact that their bodies fit together so nicely – Shishido was smaller than her, filling in all the gaps.

Shishido’s head tilted forward and she shifted again. Now she was breathing against Ohtori’s neck, prompting tingles in a place where Ohtori had never felt them before, but it made her tighten the muscles of her thighs uncomfortably. Oh, what is that? She also moved her body enough that the sensation would stop.

Thankfully for Ohtori’s suddenly active imagination, Shishido snored like a motorboat. Either way, she did not sleep in the least. The next day, she would tell her parents it was out of excitement for Christmas morning.

The Tokyo Youth Orchestra was scheduled to perform Bach’s Partitia for Violin No. 2 as part of their concert at the end of January. The concert was a benefit for an extra-curricular music program, raising money to purchase instruments for students who could not afford to buy their own. Ohtori herself was selected to play the solo piece after her impressive audition with the Ciaccona. It was back to practicing the piece every day in the chapel while Shishido looked on. Lately, though, Ohtori found her presence to be more distracting than inspiring. Oftentimes she would not even really get to practice at all because they would start chatting and Shishido would get her sidetracked. Or then there was the time when Shishido decided to put lotion on her tanned legs and arms to stave off the dry winter air while Ohtori was trying to tune her instrument and she nearly broke a string in the process.

That had to stop – that feeling. It was pretty bad when she felt it between her legs, the tingling or warmth that begged for satisfaction. It was a million times worse when she felt it in her stomach – not only did it make her feel off balance and dizzy, she felt like a total fool who could not put one word after another in a sentence. It was some consolation to know that Shishido was struggling similarly – she became flustered easily during the first few weeks of January and would often go stumbling through her words to get them out as a result. Ohtori had a feeling that it meant that Shishido was just distracted and not that she was a weirdo having all sorts of unwarranted thoughts about her tennis partner and best friend.

But because she was so scatter-brained, Ohtori also forgot to even bring up why she was practicing the Ciaccona again until the day before the concert. She was so certain that Shishido was going to tell her that she already had plans and that she could not make it to the concert, unfortunately. Still, she had to ask.

“It’s tomorrow,” she said again as she packed up her violin and bow. “I really am sorry for not telling you sooner. I’m sure you have plans already, with such short notice.”

“No – no not at all.” Shishido grinned back, looking at Ohtori from over the ticket. “I’ll definitely be there – and I’ll have flowers for you after the concert, so look for me.” One of the things that Shishido liked about going to the other concerts Ohtori preformed in was that everyone gave the musicians flowers – she had commented on it every single time as they were leaving the music hall. Ohtori was used to it – it was just something that was done in the performing arts world, but Shishido also claimed that no one had ever given her anything like flowers. It seemed hard to believe, but it was understandable why it would make an impression.

Ohtori could not help but smile in return. “I’ll look for you.”

The night of the concert, Shishido stopped off at a flower shop on her way to the concert hall. She only had enough money in her wallet for one flower, but she was able to buy the largest, most beautiful red rose in full, glorious bloom. She had no idea what Ohtori’s favorite flower was, but roses seemed like a pretty good bed – everyone liked roses.

Hey, and if she liked the rose, maybe Ohtori would also say yes when Shishido asked her if maybe there was some chance that she could possibly consider having some vague interest in a person that just happened to be the same sex. It was a long shot, but it looked like it always worked when Atobe used roses to charm all the girls in sight. It was actually sort of gross how girls would throw themselves at Atobe. It only got worse when both Atobe and Oshitari were involved. If Shishido didn’t have plenty of reason to believe that it just wouldn’t work out, she might think there was something suspicious about their friendship (or lack thereof).

The performance was amazing, just like it was every single day in the chapel when Ohtori would play the piece by heart from her heart. Ever since they talked about the stories that songs could tell, Shishido could clearly visualize the kind of person Bach’s wife had been through the song. A bit like Ohtori, she thought – a woman who was strong and had a good head on her shoulders, but was also very gentle and was usually thinking of others. She was taken from him suddenly while he was traveling, and returning to find her gone was devastating. He remarried a couple years later – a happy marriage where he and his wife shared a love of music. He found companionship in the end, but only after suffering great pain.

Shishido joined the crowd in giving Ohtori a standing ovation, but she also snuck out as quickly as she could while she was still bowing so she could be the first to wait by the doors for Ohtori to come out. After a few minutes she was joined by many others, most of them men, holding bountiful bouquets of beautiful flowers ranging from sunny daisies to vivid violets. All of them were dressed more appropriately for the occasion than Shishido – all she had in the way of a skirt was her school uniform which she wore. All the rest of the attendees wore suits or evening gowns. Even if she did wait for Ohtori, what did she have to offer her? A single rose. And she didn’t want Ohtori to be seen with someone who clearly wasn’t high society enough to be at this sort of function.

Frustrated with herself – both for being so stupid as to get excited as well as for thinking that Ohtori would ever want to be with someone who didn’t share her interests – she turned on her heel and left. By the time Ohtori was out in the lobby area being greeted by her family and adoring admirers alike, Shishido was already on the train ride home dangling the rose upside down lazily between her hands.

Ohtori was never angry at her doubles partner – she assumed that Shishido had another obligation or that they simply didn’t meet up because the lobby was so busy after the performance with parents, boyfriends, girlfriends, and other well-wishers all carrying flowers. It was quite a scene – more than Ohtori was used to, in any case. She decided she would just ask Shishido the next day if she was able to get to the concert or not. The trouble was that if Shishido was even at school, Ohtori couldn’t find her anywhere. It went on for a couple of days like that – Ohtori was assured that Shishido was indeed in class, but she could never seem to find her. She tried sending her mail or calling her cell phone, but was unsuccessful in reaching her by either means.

After so many months of doing absolutely everything with Shishido, it felt so strange to walk to school on her own, ride the train on her own, do all of her homework alone, each lunch with Hiyoshi but not Shishido. By the second week, Ohtori just resigned herself to never speaking with Shishido again – it hurt to think that it was going to be that way, but she didn’t know what else to do. It seemed like Shishido didn’t want to see her, anymore.

She was excused from class when she suddenly was gripped with the urge to cry. She knew the other girls whispered – she knew that they all thought she was a cry-baby and they would be making fun of her behind her back. She felt as alone and outcast as she had on the first day of school, surrounded by friends.

Valentine’s Day was nightmarish for Oshitari and Atobe, as Ohtori understood it. Almost all of the girls in her class wanted to give chocolates to one of them, if not both. As far as Ohtori knew, it was actually tradition to give chocolates to a boy that you liked, not to give chocolates to a female upperclassman at your school. That did not deter the admirers in the least, of course. They all had their targets planned out, homemade chocolates in hand, and were trying to think of the best time to deliver them – some of them were even going to go in groups to all hand off their chocolates at the same time. If the second and third years were this nuts, Ohtori had to wonder where Oshitari and Atobe were even going to keep all of the chocolates.

Ohtori spent her morning having her favorite breakfast with her family – she always received chocolates on Valentine’s Day from her father because he said that his daughter was the best Valentine’s gift her mother had ever given him. Ohtori was used to not doing anything special on her birthday – normally her friends wanted to be with their boyfriends or at least were too distracted on the day to remember that it was her birthday. She didn’t mind in the least – there were 364 other days in the year when they generally would acknowledge that they were glad she was around. At least, it felt like that before the concert. That morning, she had only heard from her friends from her previous school – she had nearly twenty messages by the time lunch rolled around, all wishing her a very happy sixteenth birthday.

She was pulled aside in the hallway by Oshitari who looked as composed as ever, except for the small stress lines around her eyes. “Won’t you join me for lunch?” She was begging, Ohtori realized, though her voice still held the same bored drawl it usually did. Ohtori had no choice but to nod in compliance and she was dragged up to the second floor to an empty meeting room where the student council usually gathered during lunch periods. They both sat down and unpacked their bentos.

“You look worse for wear, Oshitari-san,” Ohtori pointed out. Her upperclassman had probably been subjected to gifts from all sides. As nice as it had to be to be well liked, it seemed like more of a curse than a blessing.

Oshitari chuckled low in her throat, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “Valentine’s Day is always a little hard on all of us. I don’t enjoy rejecting them – it’s so brave and beautiful to declare your feelings to someone else.” She rested her elbows on the desk and her chin in her hands. “So heartbreaking.”

“I think it’s more heartbreaking for them,” Ohtori pointed out. Though, the more she thought about it, the more she thought that it really might be worse for Oshitari, with how she was so in tune with the romantic feelings of others. She would sometimes be deeply moved by trashy romance novels that anyone else would discredit given the content.

They chatted as they ate; only interrupted when the door to the classroom opened. Oshitari turned warily, but it was Shishido standing in the door with a small wrapped box with a red ribbon. It was stunning to see her after a few weeks, but she did not look any different than the last time Ohtori saw her – maybe a little flustered. “Shishido-san…”

“Hey.” Her eyes darted to Oshitari briefly. “Hey, Oshitari.”

“Ryoko.”

Shishido stepped up to Ohtori and extended the box. “I made them myself… I hope you’ll accept them.” She was blushing so badly that her ears were during an interesting shade of red that nearly matched the color of the ribbon. Her expression was that of someone who just ate a lemon, scrunched up and displeased. It was strange, but it moved Ohtori.

“You… knew it was my birthday?” Ohtori brightened, accepting the box. “Thank you! I wasn’t expecting anything like this.”

Shishido looked stricken, her lips parted and eyes wide. She struggled to say, “Y-Yeah, that’s it. I wanted to wish you happy birthday, is all.” She took a step back. “So… see you.” And with that, she was out the door and down the hallway before Ohtori could really even react.

She turned her eyes to Oshitari, not letting go of the package. Oshitari’s eyebrows were lifted in amusement, a small smile touching her lips. “She didn’t know it was your birthday,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” Ohtori replied. She turned that thought over in her head. “Oh!”

Shishido sat on her bed with her knees pulled up to her chest – the position she always assumed for brooding. She had been practicing brooding a lot, lately, and was pretty good at it – especially when she was alone in her room sitting on the bed and feeling sorry for herself. She wanted to apologize to Ohtori – she wanted to tell her everything. Then she fucked up and didn’t even know it was Ohtori’s birthday and couldn’t even be woman enough to admit that the chocolates she made from scratch were for Valentine’s Day. It was stupid Oshitari’s fault, anyway. If she hadn’t been there, Shishido wouldn’t have stumbled over her words and would have just said outright what she had been feeling. It would have been super suave and Ohtori would be impressed.

But it was hard to brood when someone was playing the Theme from Star Wars. At first, Shishido was sure it was just her stupid older brother turning his music up much too loud, but the more she listened, the less it sounded like recording and the more it sounded like live music. And had the lead part of the song always been a string solo?

Frowning, Shishido leaned forward, listening more intently to try to hear where the music was coming from – outside, maybe? She looked out her window to the front yard below where there was a very familiar girl in a very familiar school uniform playing a very familiar song on a very familiar instrument. Something like adrenaline kicked in and Shishido was on her feet and down the stairs in seconds, racing outside. When she crossed the threshold was when she wasn’t really sure what she was supposed to do. What was she going to say? Where was she going to start?

Ohtori stopped mid-note and took her violin off her shoulder, smiling at Shishido. “I told you I would perform it for you.”

“But, it’s your birthday. Shouldn’t you be home with your family?” Or her friends – the ones she actually liked. Those friends would not run away when they started to feel insecure about their own feelings or about their worth to Ohtori.

“This is the only place I would want to be.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Shishido said lamely, trying not to let the last statement give her too much hope.

“I just told you, this is the only place where I want to be.” Shishido’s heart jumped – it felt like going down the first hill of a very tall roller coaster. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but she wanted it again – she wanted to feel like that every day. Ohtori stepped closer, looking down at the grass shyly. “I don’t really understand it, but that’s what it is. I always want to be with you – all the time. I want it to be like it was before – I want it to be more.” She looked at Shishido again, seeking approval.

She found it.

Shishido stepped closer, not daring to think that it would end well, but she put one hand, palm flat, on Ohtori’s flat stomach. Her hand moved up a bit so her fingers rested over Ohtori’s ribs. Words escaped her – she knew if she responded, she’d probably just sound stupid, anyway. It was hard to think completely clearly when her fingers were snagged up in the sweater of Ohtori’s school uniform.

Ohtori got it. Like always, she somehow understood without Shishido saying anything. She bent at the waist, closing the distance between them to kiss Shishido’s cheek. It was tentative, but warm and very much welcome.

They met eyes again – it emboldened Shishido. She touched their lips together ever so lightly. Despite what all the romance novels would have her believe, there were no fireworks. In fact, it was a bit awkward with neither of them really knowing what to do. But it was nice – very nice. She would do it again. They parted too quickly for her liking, but Shishido had no reason to believe that it would be their last.

“You said… you said that not everything was ruled out by your chastity promise, right?”

“Shishido-san,” Ohtori protested, flushing red. Of course, the words totally ruined the moment – just like she knew they would. Despite that, all Shishido could do was smile.

“It’s cold out,” the older girl pointed out softly. It was – her feet were bare and her toenails were starting to turn blue. She had not really thought to put on any clothing before racing outside in nothing more than her tank top and short shorts that she wore to bed. Even if it was not cold outside, she probably should not have been wandering around outside in such a state of undress, anyway. Ohtori herself wore only her uniform… she had to be cold, too.

Ohtori smiled sheepishly. “It is,” she agreed. She went about putting away her violin, kneeling on the grass while she fastened the case. “You could invite me in, Shishido-san.”

“…Won’t you come inside and warm up?” Stay the night? Have my children?

Ohtori looked at Shishido strangely – which meant that Shishido’s expression must have been strange. But she didn’t say, “no,” and that was what was most important.

The first day back to tennis practice was a few weeks before the school year began, near the beginning of the break between school years. Many of the girls on the team bitched about giving up their break and how they would be giving up much of their summer to tennis practice, too. Ohtori, though, was glad for it. She was starting her second year on the regulars, her second year of playing doubles with Shishido, and she knew that Hyoutei would be unstoppable that year. All of the seniors were going to be working hard to leave their mark on the school before they graduated and moved on to college – and Ohtori wanted to support her doubles partner in becoming the best doubles team on the circuit. They were already half-way there – it was just going to be a matter of lots of practice. Lots of time spent together.

Ohtori watched the new freshmen filing into the club house – many of them wearing makeup even though they were just going to have to reapply it all after they worked up a sweat in practice. They all looked so small – not just petite, but young. Some of them looked nervous as Ohtori felt on her first day almost a year before, others looked like they planned on ruling the school. They would be in for a nasty surprise once they got to know Atobe Keiko. Nothing was going to stop the self proclaimed “Queen” of Hyoutei, now that she was a third year.

“What’re you waiting for, Chou?” Shishido stopped on her way out to the court. She kept her hair short ever since the incident where she nearly lost her spot on the starting lineup, but she still wore the blue ball cap. She had it situated on her head so that the bill was faced backwards. She had not purchased new shoes since last season – she wore the typical Hyoutei standard-issue sneakers with pink soles (it was probably Atobe’s idea).

Looking back on where she was a year ago, Ohtori could only think that she was happier – that this was exactly the change she had needed in her life. She could still practice her violin, speak a few words of prayer in the morning, and play tennis with a remarkable young woman that she would not have known if she had not transferred schools. Said remarkable young woman was starting to look a little uncomfortable under Ohtori’s silent regard.

“Uh… Chou?”

“Right, sorry.” Ohtori removed her racquet from her locker and fell into step with Shishido on their way out the door. Their shoulders bumped every few steps. “You were saying something earlier?”

“Oh – so I saw this really cool formation on TV, the other day… I bet we could pull it off. It might even be better than Australian Formation!”

“You’re not still comparing us to them, are you?”

“Well, not exactly – but you know Oishi’s got one of the best defensive games on the circuit and with how Kikumaru plays the net…”

Yep. Best decision ever.