Voices of the Present
Perspective

The Teacher

Suzumi Tamao didn't know how long she had been sitting against the tree, looking out over the lake shimmering in the waning late autumn sun. Frankly, she didn't care. Intellectually, she knew she was in shock. Her sense of duty to her school- something sorely lacking by some today, respect for the new Étoile, and love for her friends had kept her celebrating with the others, but eventually it had become too much and she slipped away to think. It had been quite the challenge with all of Chikaru's minions constantly hovering around her.

I think she's afraid I might do something rash. She needn't worry-I'm hurting, but not that much.

To say the events of the morning had been traumatic was an understatement. She should have seen it coming, but instead she blithely assumed once the flowers and well wishes were conveyed and Shizuma had drifted off the stage that the door to doubt had closed and the waters were finally settled...at least for this one precious moment that Shizuma of all people should have held sacred. She had blinded herself to the depths of Shizuma's selfishness...the former Étoile's need for a savior from whatever it is that darkens her soul. That and her need for the whole world to revel in her moment of self-realization...never mind the collateral damage she left in her massive wake. As always, she gets what she wants, with as much spectacle as humanly possible.

I understand she loves Nagisa, and the feelings are certainly mutual. I want Nagisa to be happy, and I can see the happiness in Nagisa's eyes when she looks at Shizuma...and in all fairness the happiness returned. But couldn't Shizuma have waited just a few more hours to do this? Maybe even a day? Does the woman have any discretion? Empathy? Decency? At least then the whole school, correction all THREE schools, wouldn't have been witness to...this. It's one thing to lose the Étoile election- Hikari-chan and Amane-sama deserve it and I truly am happy for them- but even the defeated pair usually have each other for support. I have nothing, and everyone knows it.

I feel used.

"In all the storied history of the Étoile, this must have been the biggest spectacle. Leave it to the Queen of Drama to yet again make it her own private little circus," she declared to the Universe in general.

"Actually, you might be surprised, Suzumi-san," came a voice from behind her.

Startled, Tamao shifted to see her homeroom teacher and longtime writing coach, Oosaki-sensei, sitting maybe six feet away against an adjacent tree. "How long have you been sitting there," she said gruffly, annoyed. Tamao didn't bother with honorifics.

I've had quite enough of highly placed people already today, and anyway, as much as I respect you, you're invading my space.

"You're the romantic," the teacher reminded her, ignoring Tamao's mood and refusing to be baited. "This place is 100 years old. The Étoile system dates back to just after the War. If you'd pull out of your introspective reverie for a moment and engage that remarkable literary brain of yours, you'd recognise how many times the wheel has turned and how many times each variation on each theme must have come about. You are not the first girl left at the altar. Although I must admit that variation hasn't happened even in my rather storied time around here. Hanazono-san was certainly in impressive form, even for her."

"Hurrah for her," was all Tamao could think of as a response. "Go and get her a medal. Oh wait, I forgot, she already has one hanging from her arm right now." The tears started to well up again.

Oosaki-sensei looked at her with an indecipherable expression. "Kōhai, there are some people I'd like you to meet, some stories you must hear. Minamoto-san is a poet too, you know, and I've heard her say Strawberry Hall has much to teach if you but listen to the echoes of the past that sound from the walls. She's right. I won't promise it'll make it any easier, and I certainly won't pretend anyone can make it all better, but perspective is something you are really hurting for right now. If nothing else, just think of all the poetic inspiration that'll come out of this whole thing, my star writer." Oosaki-sensei gave a little raised eyebrow/smirk/shrug that conveyed a sense of 'what do you have to lose?' and 'do you have anything better to do right now?'

Tamao wiped her eyes on the already damp right shoulder of her Miator winter uniform and looked at her teacher with a skeptical, less than enthused look.

"How about this, if you come you can stay at my place tonight and avoid having to go back to Strawberry Hall and face everyone in your current mood. I'll cover for you with Sister Hamasaka."

Oosaki-sensei was amazingly perceptive. Offering the one thing...other than Nagisa...or perhaps Shizuma's head on a pike...that would be appealing. "Alright, you've got me. Just don't expect my mood to improve at all."

"Fair enough. I'd be a fool to insist otherwise."

Tamao arose, shook off several hours worth of dust, and started walking quietly behind orange-red hair. What is it about today and me seeing the backside of redheads? She appreciated that Oosaki-sensei left her again to her thoughts and didn't attempt to make idle chatter. She had to admit her teacher was many things, but a fool wasn't one of them. Her history at Miator, at Strawberry Hall, and throughout Astraea Hill was legendary, and like most legends separating fact from myth was nigh impossible even shortly after the events which brought forth the legends.

Maybe that'll be my fate. The Legend of the Abandoned Étoile Candidate.

The idea of her being anything legendary actually brought a wry smirk to the right side of her mouth.

The Legend out of all this will be Nagisa and Shizuma. Maybe someday I'll be able to make this all into a book.

Tamao's thoughts took a blessedly didactic turn for a while as she imagined turning the day's events into an epic novel, able to ponder her role in the third person.

It'll be a long time before I'll be able to write this without trying to rewrite the ending, though.

Tamao's thoughts were interrupted as she realized Oosaki-sensei had stopped walking and, in fact, they were standing at the door of the Groundskeeper's Cottage. She opened the door and beckoned Tamao inside with a gentle smile.

Tamao's reasoning faculties returned for the first time that day since Shizuma burst into the chapel. She remembered back to Oosaki-sensei's words, 'Stay at my place tonight.'

"Oosaki-sensei, you live here?" Tamao asked in mild bewilderment.

"Officially, this is the residence of Uchida Hisoka, the Groundskeeper and Facility Manager of Astraea Hill. But yes, it is my home as well. I just never speak of it, and since I leave the grounds each night and then double back, no student has ever made the connection." A slight shrug.

"You're right. I'm your star student and I never guessed."

Oosaki-san's smile increased at the nascent sign that Tamao's confidence was returning. "It's almost nightfall. Unless you wish to stand at our doorway until sunrise, would you like to join me inside for an evening of coffee, cake, and conversation? If you thought the Seven Wonders were fodder for your art, you'll have a mountain of material...and answers...if you'll just step inside."

Tamao looked up at Oosaki-sensei's face to look her straight in the eyes. There was no guile there, and Tamao was primed to sense ulterior motives right now. Tamao had known Oosaki Keiko for almost four years, ever since Tamao's writing talent had manifested spectacularly during her first year at Miator. The resident literary expert had taken Tamao under the wing and she was easily her favorite teacher.

If anyone would know the secrets of Miator past, other than maybe the Sisters, it would doubtless be her. She believes some of my answers lie there. If anyone in this mad place has my best interests at heart, it would certainly be her.

As if reading her thoughts, Oosaki-sensei added, "If nothing else, it will be distracting."

Tamao managed a weak smile and stepped past Oosaki-sensei and into the cottage. She heard footsteps follow behind her and the door softly close to keep out the evening chill.

The Groundskeeper

As Tamao crossed the threshold, the smell of olives, freshly baked bread, and coffee filled her nose. The place was kept warm, perhaps in part by a roaring fire opposite the doorway. The entryway opened into a Western-style, almost European main room with sofa and several comfortable-looking chairs. "You can leave your shoes over there," Oosaki-sensei pointed to a small wooden shelf beside a coat-rack. "You seem to have omitted a coat when you wandered out of the festivities."

"Keeping warm wasn't exactly on my mind at the time."

"I don't suppose it was. Well, you will be warm now, and hopefully you won't get sick on top of everything else. Feel free to make yourself at home, Suzumai-san. You're free to sit on anything, even the floor, except the recliner with the pillow on it. That's Hisoka's. You'll see why here in a few minutes." With a wink and smile, Oosaki-sensei then slipped around a corner and out of view in the direction of the aromas.

Tamao took the opportunity to examine her surroundings. The main room was cozy. As she had noted earlier, there were many places to sit, either Western or Japanese style. The hardwood floors were covered by numerous colorful rugs to ensure feet, knees, or bottoms didn't have to connect with a cold surface. The artificial lighting was currently minimal although there were several available lamps, but the dancing flames from the fireplace provided plenty of illumination and Tamao could see why the lamps were unused. Waning daylight filtered through glass windows.

They must like to have guests, Tamao observed to herself.

There were few other fixtures in the room, save for a plethora of bookshelves lining the walls. Clearly the inhabitants didn't have much interest in non-utilitarian "knick knacks". Where there were no shelves, the walls were generally covered by artwork which must have been Miator student works from various periods over the past 100 years. Likewise, what wasn't books on the bookshelves were various artifacts certainly also of student origin.

Tamao always felt the best way to judge a person was by looking over their book collection, so the bookshelves drew her interest. Various fiction and non-fiction texts from an amazing variety of languages met her eyes. Japanese and English, of course, but also French, German, Latin, Chinese, and Greek. Subjects ranged from history to mathematics and logic. Although everything but the French and Chinese in the latter category of languages was mostly alien to her, it was obvious these books were not just for display. They had the look of use, even love, something Tamao wasn't boasting when she said she could tell.

Oosaki-san doesn't know German. I know since we've discussed the importance of language on literature. And she certainly isn't into theoretical logic! What kind of groundskeeper is Uchida-san?

Tamao knew Astraea had a groundskeeper and maintenance person- the place needed one, and she had to be very capable. You couldn't easily call in contractors when you had a compound-wide "no men allowed" rule except during a short period of the summer when students were mostly back at home or away at summer school. She knew her name was Uchida; Uchida-sensei given she was faculty and did teach at Spica. On the occasions Tamao had spoken with her she had seemed very nice. Tamao realized with a start that she had not seen Uchida-san since late summer and that Oosaki-sensei had been doing an amazing amount of groundswork since before summer school.

I wonder why it never seemed strange to me that Oosaki-sensei was doing pool maintenance during Summer break?

Tamao was still pondering the odd activities of Oosaki-sensei and the absence of Uchida-sensei when the sound of slightly rattling china broke her reverie.

She turned from the bookshelves to see a very pregnant Uchida-sensei walking into the room with a tray carrying a four-setting china set.

Like nine months pregnant. That explains a lot!

The fact there were four settings on the tray escaped Tamao as she rushed over to help the gravid woman set down the tray.

"Kōhai, I may have eaten a beach ball, but I can still navigate my own living room!" the brown-haired young woman exclaimed with an exasperated voice but a warm smile as Tamao tried to relieve her of the tray. "If you'll kindly just clear the books from this table here, I'll be just fine. Keiko-chan should have thought of that before she asked me to bring coffee, silly girl."

"Senpai, please give me some credit for having successfully lured our little fishie here this evening. She wasn't exactly biting." Another impish smile and wink met Tamao as the redheaded teacher leaned herself back against the wall of the entrance to the main room. "Okay, perhaps her wit took a little nip out of me, but I'll recover."

Despite herself, Tamao felt the first real, wholly felt, unfeigned smile grace her face since the events of the morning.

"Now that's my girl," Oosaki-sensei said encouragingly.

While she remained smiling- how couldn't she with these aromas, this fire, and these two oneesama-feeling young women in the room with her- her smile mutated a bit to show skepticism as well. "Okay, you reeled in a fishie. Am I now to be an entree?" Tamao challenged her teacher with an arched eyebrow.

"That would be telling, now wouldn't it," and continued smiling was the only response from the teacher. Eyes remained locked as the two of them measured the other.

A giggle and the sound of someone currently very awkward dropping into a recliner broke the staring contest. "Keiko-chan, everything you have told me about this girl doesn't live up to the real thing." Uchida-sensei leaned back to engage the recliner, obviously with some relief to have her legs up.

"I kept telling you that. Does she remind you of someone?"

"If you mean me, Keiko-kōhai, I was never that sweet. She's more like you, although happily without all the angsty tragedy."

Words spoken moments ago collided in Tameo's mind with those uttered just now.

Senpai? Keiko-kōhai? Uchida-sensei is a Miator graduate?

"If tragedy changes a person, then I think today will leave me very different," Tamao redirected a grimace to the reclining woman.

Hisoka returned the eye contact. "Perhaps, but there is tragedy and there is tragedy. Life gave you a lemon, what will you make of it?"

"Life didn't give me a lemon, Uchida-senpai, Hanazono Shizuma did."

"Ah yes, Hanazono Shizuma. I would have thought after reading your manuscript that you of all people would have predicted everything that happened this morning."

"Manuscript?"

"Kōhai, I read your Carmen script. I couldn't avoid it- Keiko was beaming for a week over your accomplishment with that in such a short amount of time...and all by yourself at that. One of my many regrets about my own lot in life is that I was unable to attend the performance. Faculty aren't supposed to have favorites, but I'll admit to having a soft spot for Minomoto-san and would have loved to see her shine. Don't tell me you didn't have Chikaru in mind for Carmen when you wrote the play, and likewise Hanazono-san in the role of Don Jose. What happened at the end of the story?"

"Don Jose kills Carmen rather than see her go to another man."

"In other words, Hanazono-san would rather destroy that which she loves rather than see someone else gain it."

"But I didn't know Shizuma-sama would get that role. It was only after the script was handed in to Rokujō-sama that the roles were decided."

Uchida-sensei gave Tamao a look which made it clear she didn't buy the excuse for a moment.

She's right, I did write the script with Shizuma in mind for that role. Uchida-senpai is right about all of it. I didn't realize until now what I was telling myself and everyone else. I foretold all this and didn't even realize it. You're slipping, Tamao-baka.

"Okay, I admit it. I wrote that role in a way which left no doubt for Rokujō-sama who should fill it. The same for the Carmen role and Chikaru-san. I can assure you Nagisa-chan filling the role at the climax was completely unplanned." The latter was added more to reassure herself than to convince the pregnant woman.

"Oh, I don't doubt it, but it certainly compounds the poignancy of the whole event. Shizuma on stage, demonstrating she'd rather kill Nagisa than have her go to another. You telegraphed it weeks ago, kōhai. How could you possibly have expected her to allow her beloved to go to another in something so public and formal as the Étoile election?"

She's right about it all...I knew...I knew!

"Damn her." The tears began to well up again.

"Quite possibly. That said, Hanazono-san is herself a tragic figure, although perhaps not to the degree of Keiko-chan here. I certainly have earned the right to say that." The gravid woman patted her stomach. "There is a saying regarding walking a mile in someone's shoes before you make judgments. Have you really examined Hanazono-san's footwear, kōhai?"

That brought Tamao up short. Tamao could see in the groundskeeper's eyes that she knew a lot that she wasn't...yet...saying. She also gathered it wasn't just the whole Kaori incident.

"Aoi Nagisa has chosen a very hard road and a travelling companion whose needs may outstrip even the famous abilities of an Aoi. If she had any sense, she would have chosen you. That said, sense has never been a trait of Aoi women."

"Now what is this about Aoi women, my dear idiot roommate?"

What little mooring she had after Uchida-sensei's recent words was broken entirely by that voice. Tamao felt a stab through her heart. Nagisa?

The Physician

Tamao watched as her beloved roommate walked around the corner, wearing a light pink knee-length bathrobe. She had just flipped her long, wet red hair forward and was bringing it back to towel down. Long red hair? Nagisa? Tamao raised her hand and started slowly advancing. The girl before her only then showed her face and it became obvious that, while nearly the spitting image of Nagisa with identical voice and eyes, this girl was not Nagisa. She was a touch taller, hair longer, face slightly sharper. Details around the edges- this girl exuded Nagisa's aura, for want of a better word.

Uchida-sensei broke Tamao's trance. "Dr Aoi, I believe you may nearly have killed the main course. You really must work on your bedside manner. I had thought you had outgrown dramatic entrances. Should I believe you now that you're not in truth living out the amorous parts all those silly medical dramas?"

Dr Aoi? "Aunt Hiromi?" Tamao blurted out.

"Ah, my dear niece saw fit to speak of me despite my request that she not?" the apparition before her responded as she began to brush down her damp mane. The smile she flashed reminded her again desperately of her best friend.

Aoi-sama's manner of speech and movements are more concise, more confident, more mature than Nagisa's. Damn, why does it feel like Nagisa? "Um, actually she just mentioned she had an alumna aunt who had gotten her into Miator. She never said anything else, and honestly I never thought to ask."

"Oh good. I never talked about Miator with her, and I didn't want anyone dredging up my past and hanging it on her."

"What part of the past do you mean, Hiromi-chan? The lurid, illicit, lascivious, or just plain lusty parts?" Uchida-sensei and Aoi-sama looked at each other and locked eyes. Tamao thought for a moment they might really be going at each other...and then laughter ensued as all three adult women in the room broke down in unrestrained laugher.

"We have got to get together more often," they all said in perfect unison, followed by even less controlled laughter.

Tamao wasn't sure how to respond to it all, feeling almost like an interloper in a conversation between old friends based entirely on cherished frames of reference unknown to her. She chose to accept the blessing of an opportunity to recompose herself. She sat and poured herself some coffee to help relax until the women returned to the present.

Oosaki-sensei was right, it certainly is distracting. Moments ago I was about to enter a fit of hysterics. Now I feel like the only adult in a room full of teenagers.

The laughter ended abruptly when Uchida-san exclaimed "Oh, Oww" and started holding her stomach. The other two women immediately attended to her, paying attention to nothing else until Aoi-sama had announced that it was just a stitch from too much laughter, nothing more. The care, compassion, and concern Aoi-sama and Oosaki-sensei showed their friend made absolutely clear their feelings for each other.

Aoi-sama and Oosaki-sensei would do anything for her.

"I'm sorry, Hisoka-chan. Lord knows too much excitement has never been a good thing for you even without pregnancy, and now we add all this. Are you sure you're up for tonight?" Oosaki-sensei said with continued worry on her face.

"Keiko and Hiromi, you'd have to tie me up somewhere to keep me away, and trust me I wouldn't forgive you for it. I have a role to play in all this, and don't you dare try to use 'my condition' to exclude me from it."

"Fair enough," Aoi-sama said as she stood up from her kneeling position in front of Uchida-sensei. "I think dinner and some 'conversation lubricant' is in order. Hisoka has prepared a fantastic Mediterranean feast, I'm only the messenger. I'm not sure how she knew we were having company tonight given she started everything before the Étoile election, but she did. Suzumi-san, I'd suggest red wine with pasta, but everyone's different. Do you have a preference?"

"Wine?" squeaked Tamao. "Um, I'm 15!"

It was Oosaki-sensei who spoke next, and her words weren't what Tamao was expecting. "Tamao-san, occasionally as an adult you will channel your childhood for brief moments of sheer, unadulterated joy, much as my friends and I just did. When that happens, your adult self will be shamelessly stealing today...a day when adulthood forced itself brutally on an unsuspecting child. Tomorrow, you will be a child again, and I will be Oosaki-sensei and you will not forget that." An uncharacteristically stern look briefly graced the redheaded teacher's face, then softened.

"Tonight, however, you are an adult, among adults, speaking of adult things. You proved your maturity this morning, an impressive display of the adult you'll become some day and whom I hope will call me friend. Tonight, I am simply Keiko-chan or even just Keiko. Keiko-senpai or Keiko-oneesan if you absolutely must. These are our good friends Hisoka and Hiromi. You are Tamao." Keiko's featured softened further and she smiled again.

"Now that we've settled that, do you want white or red wine? I'd suggest white myself, but as Hiromi-senpai explained, that's a personal preference. If you've never had alcohol before, though, I'd suggest moderation, especially until you've had something to eat. I suspect our conversation will easily see the dawn and alcohol generally makes the uninitiated sleepy."

Tamao was at a loss for oh so many reasons. Adult or child. Red or white. In desperation she looked towards Hisoka. "You're looking at the pregnant woman for wine advice? Oh the irony. Well, since I suppose it could be said you're drinking in my stead, you'll want to drink white. I'd suggest something fruity and sweet, like a gewurztraminer. I know we still have some of that from California in America. Never could stand the red stuff much, although Keiko-chan did introduce me to some lovely cherry-based wine when we visited Oregon last year."

"A trip you conveniently forgot to bring me on," Hiromi added with a pouty look.

"It's not my fault it was your last year of medical school and you were aiming for, and getting, a premier residency in Tokyo. You always were an overachiever, whether it was seducing half the damned school or apparently now vamping the entire profession of psychiatry in Japan. You'd think they of all people could see through you," Hisoka responded with renewed vigor.

An imp born of a childhood watching younger siblings took Tamao for a moment.

Let's see if they're serious about me being an equal.

"Girls, do I need to place you in time out in separate corners?"

Hisoka and Hiromi turned to look at Tamao as if they just really saw her, rather surprised expressions on their faces.

Arms came from behind Tamao and surrounded her shoulders, hugging her neck and a voice whispered loudly in her ear for all to hear, "I think you're the first one to ever shut Hiromi-senpai and Hisoka-senpai up quite like that. I certainly never managed it. I'm jealous."

"Oh wonderful, the two kōhai are a unified front. I know when I've lost. So, two whites, a red, and a big glass of milk for okaasan over there." Hiromi winked at Tamao as she headed assumedly for the kitchen. The look from someone so like to her beloved pulled yet again at her heart and she found herself staring at the empty space the redhead had just occupied.

Empty like my heart.

"If its any help, this whole situation is making her just as uncomfortable as it's making you," Tamao's brief reverie was broken by Hisoka. "You'll understand more by morning," she added cryptically.

Sounds of preparation emitted from the kitchen, but silence took over the living room. For the moment, each woman became lost in her own thoughts. Tamao found herself entranced by the waning flames in the fireplace, the hiss and crackle of the coals was hypnotic.

Nagisa's...no, Hiromi-senpai's...voice interrupted Tamao's contemplation. "Dinner's ready. Shall we just eat in here or use the dining table?" Hiromi appeared back around the corner and she and Tamao both looked to Keiko and Hisoka, ostensibly the ladies of the house.

"I'd suggest we just eat in here," Keiko suggested while looking at Hisoka with a questioning expression. "I think it's more intimate, not to mention more comfortable for beachball-san here."

An exaggerated 'long-suffering' look was Hisoka's only direct response, a look then taken over by an evil twinkle. "I'll be glad when she's out where you can deal with her."

"You know I'm looking forward to it, senpai." Tamao had seen before the look the two women shared at that moment and any doubts about the nature of their relationship was dispelled.

Hiromi couldn't help herself. "Be careful what you wish for, you may get it."

Keiko turned and stuck her tongue out at her friend. Hiromi reciprocated.

Tamao took the initiative again, "Shall I go and bring things in here? Is everything ready to bring out?"

"Oh, it's mostly ready. If you don't mind being alone with me a little bit, you're welcome to come in and help me with that part. I only have so many hands." Hiromi mimed juggling as she started back into the kitchen.

Alone with Hiromi-senpai.

She does understand the effect she has on me.

Tamao felt two sets of eyes on her, and she started to understand how the pregnant Hisoka-senpai must feel. To be seen as fragile, only to be handled with the utmost care. Liable to break at any moment if you let her stand on her own.

I'm a big girl and I can stand on my own.

Tamao resolutely rose and, steeling her confidence and clamping down on the heart beating in the back of her throat, strode into the kitchen containing Nagisa-chan's doppelganger.

Tough Love

Finding the kitchen wasn't hard at all given the variety of aromas wafting from it. Tamao came into the well-lit room, which was also western-style if a bit outdated. The appliances were all modern, however.

Not surprising given Hisoka-senpai lives here and how much she appears to enjoy cooking.

What happened next, however, was very much a surprise. A moment after entering the room, she felt herself pulled into Nagisa's...dammit, no, Hiromi-sama's...arms. Tamao looked into eyes...and found herself falling.

Hiromi was surprisingly strong for someone Tamao's size, and the redhead's left arm and hand held her firm. Hiromi's right arm also enveloped her and those fingertips began softly, barely drifting along a thin spot in her Miator uniform's fabric she never realized was there before. She couldn't move. Her heart raced and her mouth went dry. Thought fled her mind. Nothing existed but those eyes and the sensation of being held. The eyes came closer and Tamao melted. Breath smelling faintly of strawberries replaced the kitchen smells which had previously been so distinct. A vanishing voice in the back of her mind was crying, "This is wrong. That's not Nagisa."

I don't care! was the last remnant of coherent, semi-conscious thought as her eyes closed and she desperately awaited the touch of lips on her own.

But the touch never came.

Instead she felt herself turned around, arms enfolding her chastely from behind, and a face buried in her hair. "Dear heart, that is what Nagisa feels in Shizuma's arms. You know, you've felt it before. You have a taste of why, when Shizuma selfishly forced the issue in front of the whole world, my niece had to go her. I am sure to go to Hell for what I just did, but you had to understand. This was also the only way anything between us would be normal, tonight or ever. I'm not Nagisa. If anything I'm Shizuma. I could even be your Shizuma, Tamao. I could have you. Your desire is there and despite your strong will, right now I can easily feed it. I can see why Nagisa is smitten with you. But I don't think that's what you really need, and unlike Shizuma today, unlike the me of ten years ago, I care about that."

Hiromi squeezed the embrace around Tamao briefly. "Please forgive my niece, please forgive me, and most of all, find it in your heart to forgive Shizuma."

Hiromi disengaged and walked back to the counter full of prepared dishes and tableware. "I'll carry what I can in the first run and wait with the other girls until you're ready to join us. They know what just happened, but I'll be clear they passionately disagreed with my method. If Hisoka was any more mobile, I think she would have slapped me when I told her my intention. If you feel my presence will interfere with your enjoyment of the rest of the evening, I will leave you with Hisoka and Keiko. I have a car and can stay in a hotel tonight." The redhead then picked up some glasses and two bottles of wine and went to walk out of the kitchen. She paused briefly as she passed Tamao, but Tamao remained frozen in body and mind, unmoving since she had resigned herself to Hiromi's kiss.

Hiromi continued on, leaving Tamao to find herself again.

Hard Understanding

Tamao was lost in her own mind. Despite the Taiko drum that was her heart beating out time if she cared to keep it, time stood still. Part of her wanted to break down in hysterics and run fleeing from this damned place. The second time in twelve hours she'd felt this way, but for oh such different reasons.

Are my feelings for Nagisa just an echo of what I could feel for Hiromi, or are my feelings for Nagisa true and Hiromi is just cruelly pulling those heartstrings? Is this really how Nagisa feels when Shizuma looks in her eyes?

Damn all three of them to Hell.

Hiromi.

Is she right? Is she my Shizuma?

This was so much more intense than Shizuma ever was, back in the day. I wanted her...no...I still want her.

She's right that I'd be hers in a heartbeat if she took me again. I'm primed for her to paint herself into my heart. To just surrender and stop having to be the responsible one, to have someone reach for me...hold me...and not the other way around.

It would be so much easier.

No, that's my hurt talking, and Hiromi preyed on that.

Would I have felt the way I feel for Nagisa for any girl who showed up to fill my room...and by extension my heart? I have been telling myself Nagisa and I are bound by fate, but maybe my feelings are just desperation.

If I don't leave, can I really go back to being a child tomorrow? Keiko sounded so confident, but I feel a million years old right now. Oh, Hiromi, it may be already too late.

I am standing within a true wonder of Strawberry Hall. If I leave, I'm sure there will never be another chance at this. This lightening will never strike twice. These women have my answers, and those they don't have I stand the best chance of finding through them.

Hiromi's right, I don't understand Shizuma.

I don't understand Nagisa.

And I damn well don't understand myself.

Tamao's mind continued running in so many different directions her consciousness ceased to be able to keep up with it all. Only when she became aware that she couldn't feel her heart racing anymore did she enter the world again.

Deep breath.

Tamao shook herself, stretched and took in the room again. Everything was as Hiromi said she'd leave it, so it appeared she was true to her word and hadn't returned while Tamao was lost in thought.

I'm a big girl and I'm still standing.

I'm not going to lose to Shizuma again, even when she wears my Nagisa's...dear Nagisa's...eyes.

I'm staying.

Tamao went and grabbed two prepared plates and the readied western tableware.

I'm not hungry and Hiromi can get her own damned food.

The Point of No Return

Tamao returned to the main room to see Hisoka and Keiko watching her intently as she entered, Keiko nursing a glass of wine and Hisoka a glass of ice water come from heaven knows where. Hiromi was working the fire, adding a log and stoking it to keep it healthy.

Healthy. They say she's a psychiatrist. What the Hell kind of therapy does she practice, anyway?

She said none of this, keeping her face impassive as she placed food before Keiko-chan and Hisoka-senpai. She looked at the surface Hiromi was likely expecting to also receive food, and saw a half-full glass of red wine next to a significantly drained bottle.

Well, it's been long enough for her to drain more than half a bottle of wine so far. I guess something about me really did take something out of her. Half of me wishes her the worst hangover ever, the other half wants to be there with her in the morning to ease her through it.

Am I really ready for all this?

Too late now.

Tamao sat down, reached for the ready glass, and started sipping at her wine. It did taste fruity, although the aftertaste was bitter. She found sipping was more enjoyable than drinking anyway, so 'moderation' didn't seem too difficult.

Tamao watched as Hiromi made her way back to her chair. The redhead glanced at the table and didn't make any obvious notice of the lack of food on it. She picked up her glass, drank from it, and added her eyes to the other two pair already fixed to Tamao.

"Okay, Keiko-chan hooked me, Hisoka-senpai cooked me, and Hiromi just ate me up. If I wasn't satisfying enough, she's welcome to get her own damned plate." Tamao met eyes with Hiromi unsure what she was conveying or what the redhead was reciprocating. "Now what's so important for me to know that it was worth taking a battered childhood and a wounded heart, and breaking them both clean in half." Hiromi winced and looked down.

Good.

It was Hisoka who next spoke. "I think it's best for us to start with our own story and then work our way from there. Hiromi-chan and I are Miator classmates, roommates from our first year. Our relationship was...unusual...to say the least, but I get ahead of myself. Nothing terribly atypical, at least not for Strawberry Hall, happened until we got our roomkeeper in our fourth year..."

*V*

The events described by Hisoka, Hiromi, and Keiko will be told in the separate story
Echoes of the Past, starting with the arc "The Roomkeeper".

Voices of the Present will continue while the past events unfold.
The next story arc in Voices of the Present will be "Waiting".