Hitsugi-san always has a plan. Plans upon plans upon plans. Most are tossed aside before she even finishes thinking about them, once she suspects they won't live up to their full potential, or cause the reactions she desires.

"Shizuku! I have the most wonderf-"

"No."

Some she gives up on the moment I show a remarkable lack of interest them. There are more of these moments than the student body, even the student council, is aware of. Sometimes, the only signs she gives are small pauses, a thoughtful look, a slow growing grin, a small hum. They're nearly impossible to differentiate from her normal behavior. All it takes for me to dissuade her from letting those plans come to fruition is a shuffle or light tapping of my fingers on whatever papers I was carrying. A look, for the most persistent ideas, and putting papers down in front of her slightly harder than necessary for those with the potential for even worse.

The council, with perhaps the occasional exception of Inori-san, remains unaware that I save them from a potentially migraine-inducing spectacle on a daily basis. I'm certain this is for the best. They are much happier in their ignorance of the multitude of outrageous, daring, embarrassing, exhausting, or just plain weird ideas their Kaicho comes up with by the minute. The only thing that saves us all from the insanity of Hitsugi-san's incredibly low boredom tolerance is her equally low attention span for anything that isn't sword fighting.

"We're expecting a delivery. Do retrieve it, will you Shizuku? Precious items such as these should not be entrusted to the unworthy."

"...You're talking about Hikaru-san, aren't you?"

For the most part, she concentrates most of her efforts toward keeping things hidden from me. Until it's too late for me to interfere, at any rate. It was easier in the beginning, when she was using school funds to order props. By my third year of junior high, I could navigate through the piles of paperwork and budget reports faster than half of the secretaries, solely due to the amount of times I had to follow the paper trails Hitsugi-san left when another idea had taken hold of her attention.

Now she's careful not to overuse her methods, never letting me fully adapt to her way of thinking. Tatewaki is usually the pawn she happily abuses toward this end, as any interference on my end would incur only wrathful feelings from the bespectacled girl. Despite her (incredibly vocal) disdain for the adoring helper, Hitsugi-san is not one to waste resources. Unfortunately, things tend to go awry when Tatewaki is left alone to organize events, which I believe is the reason Hitsugi-san continues to allow it. She has no problem placing all the blame on the girl. In fact, she is usually rather delighted to do so.

"Shizuku. My sword bearers have become rather...lax these last few weeks. I believe some inspiration is in order."

"Just don't go overboard please. We don't want another obstacle course incident."

Once in a while there will be a lull in hoshitori participation. It's hardly surprising. In a school full of teenagers, even the most dedicated fighter can become distracted. These girls are at the age where they are in a volatile stage, where they are determining the kind of person they are, and the person they want to be. Hitsugi-san, however, can't abide these times if they continue past what she considers the barely tolerable time limit of two hoshitori events. She expects more dedication out of the sword bearers than most are truly capable of.

After the spectacle that was her first attempt to liven up the students, I made a compromise with her. I allow her to arrange any kind of event she wants to correct those situations unhindered as long as she keeps it mildly simple. In her defense, the plan was a good one. We just hadn't yet figured out how disastrously wrong things tend to go when sword bearers are involved. As it turns out, I was the one who was most injured at the end of that disaster, a result of me pulling a fearful sword bearer out of harms way. Sitting there trying to keep hold on consciousness while a grateful girl sobbed all over me and Kimihara-san, the school nurse at the time, frantically hovered about, I watched for the first time as Hitsugi-san directed an openly annoyed glare at a student.

I sometimes wonder if it was my pitiful state at that moment that swayed her more than the half-successful event did. I'd been desperate when throwing that deal at her and though we rarely bring it up, she has yet to argue against it.

"Shizuku, do you not feel the charged air? The energy that is permeating the school? Perhaps I shall arrange a reward for my sword bearers."

"Please tell me those firework websites you've been looking at have nothing to do with this."

The big events, the ones that the students and staff alike fear, always start innocently enough. Hitsugi-san will pitch an idea and after several days of brainstorming will decide on the biggest, loudest, most explosive version. It's during these times that we're nigh inseparable. The amount of planning we're required to do is astronomical, and most of the work is handled by the two of us and Tatewaki (who doesn't count in Hitsugi-san's mind). We spend all day, at school and at home, bouncing numbers, names, props, and everything we can think of between us in order to ensure all possibilities are prepared for.

That doesn't, unfortunately, mean that I know everything about the events. Hitsugi-san always has a plan after all, and I eventually get so swamped with minor details and organizing that I leave most of the final organizing to her. Some sideshow or stipulation gets past me every time, and I berate myself every time. It doesn't help that many times she merely issues vague orders to Tatewaki, who will go off on her own to rig things on her end. I can never stay angry for long though. A successful surprise puts Hitsugi-san in a good mood for several weeks. I don't really appreciate the constant teasing and reminders of whatever plan escaped me, but those weeks are the closest to "relaxing" I ever get. Usually only because the students are too worn out from the event and Hitsugi-san is content to let things rest for a little.

"Shizuku! I sense something is afoot. Come! We must venture out to discover the source of this feeling!"

"As if Hikaru-san hasn't already informed you of whatever has caught your interest this time. And please don't slam the door to make a dramatic entrance."

The unexpected events, the ones I can never prepare for and the ones Hitsugi-san lives for, are among the most amusing. They're always the result of some trouble stirred up by the sword bearers, and Hitsugi-san joyously makes them worse. The clean up is often left to me, the staff involved, and whatever guard members incurred the wrath of the Captain and were placed on janitor duty. Not that the regular students don't have their own moments. I could name quite a few particularly spectacular debacles off the top of my head, but Hitsugi-san isn't interested in them. The sword bearers are her one and only concern.

It's sad, in a way. Hitsugi-san truly only cares for the sword bearers and isn't afraid to make it known. After my first year of watching a building resentment among the regular students I took up the task of fulfilling the duties she neglected. It was a hard adjustment. I'd never been intended to take any sort of role in leading the school, and I certainly didn't have the training or knowledge for it. I endured no small amount of condescension and outright hostility among students and staff alike as I struggled to take my place in a realm I was never meant to tread. I wasn't an Amachi, there was no need to grant me any respect (grudging or otherwise). Hitsugi-san's strong support and my own will were the only defenses I had as I struggled under the weight of my decision. I refused to let that deter me, refused to give in.

Hitsugi-san had been unusually pensive when I informed her of my intentions. She'd been amused, yes, and proud at my willingness, but also guilty that her behavior had led to me taking up a burden I was woefully unprepared for. Despite her guilt, changing her actions was something she never considered. Not Amachi Hitsugi. She allowed me to do as I pleased, helped when I asked (though more often when I didn't), but made no attempt to minimize her favoritism or take a more active role in regards to the regular students beyond what was required of her station.

I hadn't expected her to.

"Ah, Shizuku! Good morning."

"...What did you do to the house?!"

The year I took up the true role of vice-principal is also the year Hitsugi-san began arranging "surprises" at home as well. She'd always had an idea for an adventure or ten as a child, and her imagination (and access to resources) had only grown since. The first time I woke up to a lavishly decorated mansion I'd turned right back into my room, convinced that I was dreaming. I still do that more times than I ought to, but hope springs eternal.

I think the first few incidents were purely out of that small kernel of guilt. She wanted to do something special for me in order to make the both of us feel better about my decision. It worked in some ways. It certainly got my mind off my exhaustion for a few hours, and the days I spent fuming over her stunts went by much smoother for me. I believed she once phrased it as "taking advantage of my lowered patience when my mental state is disturbed in order to encourage me to take a firmer stance among my new coworkers." She continued with the games because she discovered that my reactions changed based on my mood and the amount of sleep I'd had. As nearly every reaction other than indifference amuses her, it quickly became her staple source of amusement at my expense.

"Good morning Shizuku. Merry Christmas."

"Morning. Merry Christmas Hitsugi-san."

Holidays are, no doubt in spite of what most assume, rather subdued at home. We each have our own reasons, but mornings are spent with low chatter and a sense of calm I so rarely experience. I take advantage of the peace and sleep in, though if I sleep too long Hitsugi-san will slip into my room to wake me. Loudly. In the morning we exchange presents of a sort, no matter the holiday, which prompts several hours worth of teasing from my friend.

Despite the calm of the days themselves, that doesn't mean that the house isn't richly decorated to the point of eye-searing tackiness and the table isn't free from a mountain of food prepared by a sorely overworked cook. The two of us could never finish that much food by ourselves, so I end up wheeling carts of food over to the guards training center for lunch. They never fail to welcome me...assuming the guards are conscious at the time it arrives.

The weeks leading up to the holidays, aside from dodging stray ornaments, are also spent avoiding constant attempts at cajoling me into dubious looking outfits and cursing the day puberty hit Hitsugi-san. Playing on people's emotions is her favorite game and she knows exactly how to draw nearly any reaction from me, but she doesn't understand what she does to my state of mind. She only cares for the potential outburst of anger or embarrassment. Many of her comments stray dangerously close to inappropriate, and she flirts with that line as she does everything else: with a smirk. I have to be especially on guard during holidays, where the rise in borderline inappropriate comments is directly proportionate to the energy level in the school.

The lack of comprehension frustrates and hurts me in ways I can't begin to describe. Twice, I have seen that spark, the beginning of an understanding I both fear and need. It never lasted longer than a second. There is a gap between us, but I can't even see the other side much less make a leap for it. I don't know if it's true unawareness or simply an inability to recognize what the nature of our separation is on her part, but I am constantly burdened with the feeling that I'm not nearly as important to my friend as she is to me.

"Happy birthday Shizuku!"

"Oh. Ah. Thank you."

Birthdays are my favorite days. There are no surprises, no students to deal with, and no paperwork to finish. There is only the promise of a day where I can truly relax, laugh, and play with my closest friend, free of any burden or expectation. When we were young we would celebrate with our families and we cannot bring ourselves to break that, even if it's just the two of us these days.

On these two days a year, Hitsugi-san is happy to spend half the day sitting on the couch playing video games or busying herself on the laptop in search of either new ideas for the hoshitori while I read. We have cake at night, and then a movie marathon. The last few years, Hitsugi-san has taken to pulling me as close as possible without putting me into her lap and happily settling into place.

Any other time, and it would have been a tortuous trial that raised my hopes dangerously high. I don't allow myself to dwell on it during these days. I need one day, just one single day, where I just accept things as they are and do not think of what they could be. This is more difficult than it sounds, as we rarely ever share physical contact of any sort outside sparring. I can't help but want to burn the feeling into my memory out of fear of the day when we no longer can. A part of me thinks that she is, in some way, doing the same.

I don't allow myself to dwell on those thoughts either, because my greatest fear is that she is continuing on without me, vaguely aware that I had long started to slip from her side. I fear that if the time ever comes, she won't care that I am no longer at her side.

"Shizuku? What are you thinking about? You've been rather quiet."

"Oh. Just...thinking about surprises."

Hitsugi-san is quiet for a long time. Longer than I am comfortable with. I don't care for her thought processes when she has that sort of smirk in her eyes. Her hand rubs my arm slowly as she considers my answer. She says my name again, her voice thoughtful.

"Yes, Hitsugi-san?"

"You wouldn't, by chance, happen to be planning your great escape from here, would you?"

I freeze inside. She is joking, of course. She's always joking. "Of course not." A frustrated sigh easily mistaken for exasperation is the only hint of my inner turmoil. After all this time, it's the most I'm capable of showing.

The arm around me pulls me closer and I know that she is not yet satisfied with this game, that she is going to press the issue as usual. "Promise? You need not concern yourself with my opinion. I shall happily support your decision should you feel the urge to venture off on a grand quest." She pushes against me mockingly, as if she were pushing me onto the road of my "grand quest" with encouragement. I know she is only playing, teasing me out of boredom, but it hurts.

My throat tightens and my eyes burn. I do not immediately speak. The pause is an answer in itself that Hitsugi will catch, but fail to understand. "I promise, Hitsugi-san." It's unnatural, in a way, that when all I want to do is bury my head in a pillow and shut out the world, I can act so normal. How can I fake annoyance when all that is ringing through me is pain?

She blinks at my pause, then shrugs off her confusion and laughs. "I cannot say I mind that either." she says contently, the momentary uncertainty forgotten in her mind. Her arm is loose again, as if my promise is all she needs to be sure of my continued presence.

And, when it comes down to it, it is. A part of me is choking, desperately trying to draw air as I feel myself being slowly crushed under the weight of my words, of that one word. Promise. I'd promised that I'll stay, just like I always do when she asks. No matter how much it hurts, how much my heart breaks, I will stay with her for as long as she wants me to, and the only effort it will require on her part is a single question.

"If you dotake your leave, I shall outfit you with the finest armor!"

"No thank you."

She doesn't understand, maybe even can't understand how difficult it is for me to be near her knowing that we are unequal in every way. She doesn't know how every promise I make twists the knife a little farther in, how each failure is another wound that refuses heal.

"Are you certain? You would look quite dashing atop a great steed, knightly armor reflecting in the sun, elegant sword at your side."

I wonder if it would matter if she did.

"Wha? This is the wrong era for that type of thing! And the wrong country!"

Hitsugi has never been one for change in herself, after all.

~End~

I know, it's kinda depressing. I'd feel worse for Shizuku if I didn't have an even more depressing idea bouncing around in my head. Also, to give you hope, I do intend for this to expand some more by (eventually) adding first person views for other characters. I have a Momoka one started, and a sorta Sae one in rough draft stage (that I am avoiding like the damned plague 'cause Sae is hard to write and it refuses to settle down into a nice format). Those aren't depressing, no worries. And no, I will not be doing a Valentines one so don't get your hopes up.

I do have a couple in the works for Tigers, but as they've been "in the works" since before...Halloween, actually, I'm not sure when I'll go back and work on those.

Anyway! That is your update from me! I am still alive out here, somehow, though I will say that at the moment I have a horrendous headache, a halfway healed tailbone, a slightly infected knuckle, a small but annoyingly painful cut on my finger, a messed up foot, and a messed up knee. All this, and I still crawled out to the library (I cheated and took the bus). You guys better appreciate this!