Ok, well, hello. This is my first fanfic ever! =D I'm pretty hesitant about actually posting a creative piece for all the world to see, but SP is something I love. So. Yeah.

Criticism is welcome! If you guys like this, I'll upload more chapters. Well...I've only finished one more. So. Kthx.

Oh, and I do not own Strawberry Panic. At all. Whatsoever. It's unfortunate, really...I'd love to help Shizuma in the garden. Planting Astrantias.

She pushed the ruby away, her ruby. A thin red ribbon released its grip and lay loosely on her now limp wrist. She turned away, light passed through the stained glass windows of the chapel. A thin stream of water traveled down the winding trail of her face, ebbing and flowing, changing downward direction to find the quickest path to the tiled floor, a place as low as she felt. She felt her cheek, wet with sorrow at a love lost. This was it, it's over. Her rival had won, and she stood helpless as her ruby-haired goddess ran off the stage and into the arms of another. Into the arms of Hanazano Shizuma. The azure-haired poet couldn't be here. Not now, not after this. She couldn't bare it any longer, and bolted through the back doors without notice from anyone.

The crowd watched in awe at the spectacle; the beautiful, now former, Etoile racing into the chapel right as the new pair of Etoile were about to be chosen. People clapped. People cried. They felt it was an action of true love, how one would declare their love for another in the faces of so many spectators. As a last ditch effort to save the scheduled Etoile selection, Miator's student council president, Rokujo Miyuki ordered Spica's Saintly Chorus to begin singing, heightening the situation even further. The choir began:

Daily, daily sing to Mary,

Sing, my soul, her praises due

Aoi Nagisa crashed into the arms of her beloved, tears of joy welling up as she wrapped her arms around Shizuma's graceful neck and buried her face in a blanket of gray velvet. Shizuma, reciprocating the action, wrapped her arms around Nagisa's waist, tightening her grip as the embrace slightly lifted the ruby-haired girl off of her feet. "Nagisa…" Shizuma breathed, "I love you."

With the heart's devotion true

Lost in wondering contemplation,

Be her majesty confessed.

And all at once, the crowd began to sing along with the choir, coming to the realization that something magical was taking place right before them. Miyuki, looking defeated, threw her hands up in the air and sighed. She looked at Lulim's student council president, Minamoto Chikaru, to hurry and announce the selection.

She is mighty to deliver,

Call her, trust her lovingly.

The dejected girl raced down the path towards the Strawberry dorms, her hour long done up hair now disheveled, mascara now emphasizing the dark circles under her eyes as it runs. It runs. She runs.

When the tempest rages around thee,

She will calm the troubled sea.

Gifts of heaven she hath given,

Noble Lady, to our race.

"Congratulations, to Ohtori Amane and Konohana Hikari, on your ascent to the Etoiles of Astraea Hill!" Chikaru announced. Her hand outstretched, her amber eyes shining, and smile spread across her face, she congratulated the new Etoiles, as onlookers kept singing. Miyuki stared at the stained glass window, a depiction of St. Peter graced its panel. "Oh, Peter," she began to think, "I'm anxious about the future of Astraea Hill. I just want this place to run smoothly once I'm gone. I don't know what it's in store…and it's frightening…" She kept her eyes on the window as the chapel echoed with voices.

Sing, my tongue, the Virgin's trophies

Who for us her Maker bore.

"Hey! Watch it, will you? Can't a girl just take a stroll with her girlfriend without so much as some bitch running into them?" Kenjo Kaname growled. Her dark eyes glaring daggers at the still running azure-haired girl. Her lover, Kiyashiki Momomi, looked towards the now distant azure orb. She frowned. A breeze blew her dark blonde locks into her face. Kaname's slender fingers brushed them away for her. They continued their stroll, easily regaining composure.

For the curse of old inflicted,

Peace and blessing to restore.

Heels in hand, the lonely child ran barefooted, feet scraped with every step upon the dirty concrete. A sudden crack in the pavement…

Sing in songs of peace unending,

A toe caught, her gown tearing. A tired and breathless gasp. A shiver down the spine, and blue hair whipping. The angel falls, and her body meets the ground, as if atoning for her sins.

Sing the world's majestic Queen.

Weary not nor faint in telling.

She stays, unmoving, save the sobs that escape her trembling lips, and the tears fighting to escape her lashes.

All the gifts she gives to men.

It's done. And as St. Peter overlooks the masses, a girl lays broken in body and spirit. The sun shines down upon her back. Birds chirp. The world carries on, just as she will. She has to.