Short Miyuki ficlet. The idea just popped into my head earlier.

Disclaimer: Don't own Strawberry Panic. Why would I want to own a soap opera? XD

Secrets

Miyuki could keep a secret. That much had been bea--established in her at a young age.

A lady knows when to keep her mouth shut. Which was, frankly speaking, practically always, especially in a male-dominated world.

Being thrust into an entirely female environment was...enlightening, to say the least. Astraea Hill was completely free of the taint of patriarchy, a secret garden for young maidens to grow and flourish, free of detrimental influences. It was also, inevitably, a place of gossip and of a unique kind of underground rivalry among the 3 schools---not as aggressive as with males, infinitely more subtle and yet just as deadly in its ferocity.

Miyuki sometimes wondered if that environment was deliberately created to specifically engineer sheer tenacity and will into its students. After all, Miator was famed as a "training ground" for the future of high society ladies. The shadowed games of gossip and backbiting that were a standard feature in those circles were evidently replicated at this level, possibly to give them a taste of the murky chaos they would graduate into.

She was good at the game. How else do you think she got to be the president of the student council? Connections only took one so far, the rest of the way had to be beaten out with her own hands. Not that she ever got her own hands dirty, mind. That was not her style, and she more or less kept out of the gossip chain--at least overtly. Just because she didn't deliberately propagate rumours or engage in the petty backstabbing that was so common further up the food chain, didn't mean that she was ignorant or completely removed from it. She just took a more oblique approach to influence the circus that raged in secret around her.

Miyuki held her tongue admirably well in all her years on Astraea. While she was in no way the master puppeteer that Chikaru was, she nevertheless had her own ways of gathering information and pulling strings to get what she wanted. She held the secrets of many, some willingly divulged to her because of her famously sealed lips, and others...less willingly. Most of the time, she was nice enough not to use it on them, except when absolutely necessary. She preferred to tread a path of minimum casualty, somewhat unlike Shion's full-barrelled approach in Spica. Chikaru was much the same, except that when she did strike, she would do it so swiftly that you wouldn't feel a thing until it was too late. Minimum fuss, minimum mess, was the Le Rim president's approach. She hid it well though, with her airy and sometimes overly dramatic personality, but Miyuki knew better than to underestimate that smiling seeming-pacifist. Shion might have been the more aggravating during her term, but Chikaru was the one that could pose a real threat should she choose to. Frankly, Miyuki was glad that Chikaru rarely chose to interfere in most power struggles. She couldn't fathom the casualty rate that would occur if that happened.

The nun on the podium droned on. Something about virtue or integrity or the like.

Miyuki knew about integrity. In fact, with the whole vault of untold secrets she guarded in her heart without letting a single one slip (at least not without purpose), she knew the value of integrity very well. Her whole reputation centered around that fact.

She had held her secrets, kept her peace. In all her days as Miator student president, she had never let slip the most important ones.

The key to her best friend's heart...and her own.

She had revealed the former in an attempt to salvage what was left of Shizuma, but she would forever seal the latter into the oblivion of time. Even now, she would graduate, and it would be forgotten. People would forget, as they always did. Except, most of them have never even realised that it had even existed in the first place, so there was nothing to remember. The only person who did have an inkling of what it was, was someone to whom it should have mattered the most, but it was brushed aside, kindly, yes, but the matter was never brought in its entirety to the surface. She didn't push the issue, content to let things stay the way they were, preserve some sense of normalcy and stability, and prepared for the future that had already been laid out in advance for her.

She had given her speech as the outgoing president, a mantle she was by now glad to shed in favor of one Suzumi Tamao, who reminded her too much of herself, in ways both good and bad. She wished nothing but the best for the blue haired girl, and hoped that Tamao would eventually find an ending better than hers.

The rest of the graduation passed in a blur. She paid scant attention to the festivities, except to smile and nod, interacting when interacted with, never giving more or less to anyone. Except for those who had been of direct acquaintance to her, of course. She did have a sense of propriety. No one could accuse her of being otherwise.

"Tedious, isn't it?" A voice whispered into her ear from behind. Someone else less disciplined would have jumped up in surprise, Miyuki barely twitched in response. She was used to Shizuma's pranks, and anyone else could rarely elicit an effect from her.

"Was there something?" She asked calmly, not bothering to turn around. "I thought you would have been busy attending to your own end of affairs."

"Touche. Can't I bid you farewell too? Seeing that you would be leaving soon after all." A lightly amused tone. Too familiar, to her ears.

"Didn't you do that already with your speech earlier?" She knew she was being a tad rude with her counter-thrusts, but she simply couldn't resist crossing swords for one last time. The polite dance of words was usually not a favored form of activity for her, but when it came to this one, she found it quite entertaining. Invigorating, even.

A clear chuckle. "That was for the flock. This is for you." It sounded genuine. But knowing her, it could mean nothing. This one was a consummate actress after all.

"I'm glad." A polite answer, appropriate for the situation, if the one you were addressing were a stranger. Suddenly falling back on formality was a trademark she had developed over the years, and they both knew well that it was as much an offensive move as a defensive one. Miyuki felt the edge of her lips curl up. She was enjoying this play far more than she had thought she would.

"Life is going to be much less interesting with your generation out." A theatrically regretful sigh. "What will I do with myself?"

"Oh I'm sure you will make your own entertainment." Dry, offhand, truthful. A straight thrust.

And parried with ease. "We'll see." Lazily spoken, yet crisp in quality. An abrupt shift, at least by their standards. Miyuki braced herself for the next comment.

It came, and it was surprisingly mild. "Still keeping your cards close to yourself, eh?"

Suspicious, the former Miator president thought. "The same can be said of you." Another bland rebuttal.

A chuckle, but decidedly less sincere. "But at least I don't play the martyr like you, Miyuki."

Said girl was momentarily caught offguard partly by the directness of the statement, but mostly by the dropping of the honorifics. Low blow, but clever, she thought. Clearly, the younger girl was attempting to outflank her.

Well, she wasn't going down without a fight. "Merely a sense of responsibility, my dear." She was gambling with the endearment, and they both knew it. Surprisingly though, her opponent let it slide. Hmm, interesting.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to your fanclub?" Almost acid, by their standards. Admittedly a low blow. An eye for an eye, Miyuki shrugged inwardly.

"They'll live." Dismissed with barely a second thought. Miyuki felt mildly appalled for their sakes, those poor girls.

"I suppose." Neutral remark, signalling an end to the conversation. At least, by the regular rules. But it appeared that the game had gone on a tad longer than it should have.

"You should try living for yourself some time." A parting shot? That was what Miyuki saw it as. She directed her attention back to the podium, where the nun was still talking. Thankfully, it appeared to be trailing off towards the end...

The last move of the game came completely unexpectedly.

"I'll miss you." Spoken almost directly into her ear, the warm breath tickling the sensitive skin, sending a thrill down her spine. The nun concluded her speech even as she whirled around in a most unladylike fashion.

She was gone. The crowd had stood up as the speech came to an end, a standing ovation. A very inappropriately timed one, since it allowed that girl to make her escape easily enough. Miyuki scanned the crowd for those familiar ribbons, but found nothing.

She knew why a moment later.

Tied to the back of her chair, a pair of blood red ribbons. That girl had thought of everything, planned the timed escape right down to the very last detail. How very typical.

She gathered the ribbons in her hands. It was the first time she had ever touched them. Soft, she thought, running a thumb over them. Smooth, and strong. Just like her, she thought, clutching it tighter.

For the first time that day, a genuine smile manifested on her face.

Thank you...Chikaru.