Story Summary: It has been almost half a year since graduation and Natsuki and Shizuru have remained good friends. But, with sudden changes and unforeseen events, Shizuru and Natsuki's relationship is liable to become stronger than ever.

So, here is yet another installment into the Shiznat Fanfic fanbase Not yet certain whether to make this a one-shot or a multi-chapter fic – perhaps some reviews on thoughts would help influence my decision ;P Hope you all enjoy!

Italics = Thoughts

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters; everything belongs to Sunrise.

Chapter 1: Eye for an Eye

Summer had just ended, and the crisp fall air began to descend onto the city. Fuuka Academy was abuzz with new and returning students, all scrambling from one class to the next. Shizuru observed as she stood close to a wall, amusing herself as she watched each student's demeanor as they made their way to their respective classrooms, be it calm or frantic. She still had underclassmen come up to her, giving her gifts and other various forms of attention in adoration. And of course, she gave them their due attention in return: "Oh, thank you. You are too kind," she would say. "I'm glad to see you are doing well. Please stay focused."

Her humble responses weren't without sincerity, as she did grow to care for them while being their student council president. Perhaps it was also the fact that she was no longer apart of the student body, and therefore, didn't have the obligation of entertaining the underclassmen with her attention. Another factor may be that, now that she had graduated and enlisted herself as a Teachers' Aide for the school, she legitimately hoped for her students to maintain a high academic standing. She tutored Japanese History, Japanese Language and Literature, and Business; she also helped out in the Tea Ceremony club, Flower Arrangement club and the Fashion club.

As the energy in the halls finally settled and became quiet, Shizuru continued her steady walk down the hallway. She glanced into classrooms, watching as students settled themselves in their desks for their last class of the day. Resting her right hand on the handles her tote bag, she smoothed out what crinkles she could feel on the front of her tan jacket. No, she no longer wore the jacket that indicated her status as student council president; that jacket was now worn by the current council president - whom she didn't know. Today, she donned a pristine tan suit, complete with a medium-length skirt and chalkboard-black heels.

She turned a corner and smirked when she saw a familiar river of light pour out of a classroom doorframe and onto the linoleum floor. Most other teachers closed their doors, but this teacher had a habit of leaving his open. As she approached the room, she slowed her gait, remaining on the other side of the hall. She quietly peered in, her wine red eyes roaming over the students sitting inside. She could hear the teacher speaking and so she stealthily moved herself to stand behind the door frame so as not to be seen by him. Her eyes roamed again, finally stopping on a young woman with azure-blue hair. She smiled to herself.

The girl in the room sat several rows back from the front, near the window on the opposite side of the room. Her head in her hand, she propped herself up off the desk by her elbow. Though it appeared that she was to attempting to gain some kind of focus, she held a look of marked disinterest that overshadowed her efforts. Shizuru looked at her for a minute, noting her cute, slacked posture while hair draped her face and shoulders. It took only a few seconds for Natsuki's green eyes to glance towards the door as she shifted in her seat. The glance turned into a double-take; the double-take quickly transformed and froze: "What the hell?" Her widened-eyes read, stunned and unsettled.

Shizuru snickered lightly and gave a small wave. The response was what she expected.

"Move along, would ya?" Natsuki mouthed with a small but rapid wave of her hand. Her face strained as it reddened from the embarrassment of having been stared at for who knew how long. After a quick, subtle sweep of her eyes across the room, she was relieved to see that no one had noticed the silent disturbance. Still, her cheeks remained colored.

Shizuru then did something purely for her own entertainment: she winked and blew the girl a kiss.

Natsuki's eyes went large and her face reddened further, taking over almost her entire face. Her fingers gripped the desk while her jaw slackened yet tightened into a strange, open-mouthed semi-smile in incredulous exasperation. She could never get used to her teasing – worse yet when it was in public.

"Ms. Kuga!" The teacher bellowed, catching her inattention.

Startled, Natsuki jumped and looked to the front of the room, her posture instantly straightening. "Y-yes sir!?" Her face was a solid color of scarlet.

Her teacher glared at her through his thick glasses, unimpressed. "Would you please read the second paragraph?" His impatient tone mirrored his eyes.

"Uhh…" She looked down, horrified to remember that she hadn't opened her book. "Y-yes. Um…" She flipped through a few pages. "What… What page are we on?"

He sighed and massaged his forehead with two fingers while a few students snickered. "Two-hundred and thirty."

"Right," she sped to the page and stood up, her face still burning. Her eyes turned to glare at the cause of her embarrassment, who only smiled a sheepish, apologetic smile. Natsuki's teeth ground together as she reluctantly began reading.

Shizuru chuckled softly to herself, knowing she would very likely get a scolding later. She turned and continued her route to the school's front entrance. Once outside, she softly, contentedly inhaled the comfortably-cool air. The grounds were vacant and silent apart from the occasional breeze rustling the grass and trees; she knew, however, that soon everything would not be so tranquil.

She made her way down the long pathway to the main road and seated herself on a wooden bench off to the side. Once settled, she took out a small, thick book from her tote. Opening the book at its bookmark, she placed strands of hair that had fallen over her shoulders to rest behind her ear, and started to read.

Before long, students began to filter out of the school, chatting and laughing. Shizuru hadn't even noticed the change until a few students ran up to her and began chatting excitedly to her, as they often did when the older woman was in this position after school. Shizuru smiled and listened humbly, offering her thanks and congratulations wherever necessary. Eventually, a horn sounded. She looked around and found the familiar dark green Jeep parked at the curb.

"Excuse me," she said politely to her admirers and pupils. "Have a good day." She walked hastily to the car and opened the door. She sat herself in the passenger seat. "Thank you." She marked her place in her book and put it back in her tote. When nothing was said in return, she looked up.

Green eyes looked back at her icily, her hand gripping the steering wheel.

The older woman's eyebrows raised, "Is Natsuki giving me the silent treatment?" she asked, not entirely concerned; for, she knew the other girl too well.

"Yep."

Shizuru smiled to herself – she could hear the ireful tone in Natsuki's simple answer. "Forgive me, Natsuki, but perhaps you should pay more attention?" she offered innocently.

Natsuki's jaw dropped. It was her fault! "I was doing fine until you distracted me!" she said, her 'silent treatment' tactic now defenestrated.

"Ara, but Natsuki, your book wasn't even open," she countered.

The azure-haired girl's eyes widened and reluctantly said nothing for a minute. She had her there. She tried to save herself, "I-I might've noticed sooner if you hadn't…!" she desperately searched for a word that wouldn't bait her.

"Hadn't what, Natsuki?" The innocent tone remained, almost expectant.

Natsuki's head and shoulders dropped – she had already been baited. "Nevermind," she heard the chestnut-haired girl chuckle and said nothing, her cheeks coloring lightly. The younger girl pulled out of her parking spot and left the grounds.

Due to Natsuki's academic record the previous year, she was forced to retake a year in order to officially graduate. She was furious with Shizuru when she found out:

"I thought you took care of my attendance record!" Natsuki had asked her, fuming.

"I did, but unfortunately I couldn't alter your grades." The older girl then responded calmly. "The teachers and student body would have become suspicious. I, therefore, would have likely lost my title as president and you no longer would have had access to the school's database. I'm afraid it was inevitable." She explained, compunctious.

Natsuki then had no choice but to submit to the school: She wanted her diploma, and she didn't want to feel like she enrolled for nothing.

At first, Natsuki thought that Shizuru's decision to tutor was simply to be in the same vicinity and tease her, since they would see each other more often. However, Natsuki later learned that the older woman had applied even before the previous year ended.

"Why do you want to tutor there?" Natsuki later asked her. "Aren't you tired of school?" She asked more out of confusion and her own reluctance to return.

Shizuru lightly shrugged. "I like the idea. And I like helping the students. It makes me feel like I'm giving back for having won out of popularity."

Natsuki initially didn't believe her – a part of her thought she secretly liked the attention of being popular - until she happened to see Shizuru and an underclassman in one of the study rooms: the older girl was the most serious she had ever seen her while at school. The underclassman's excitement at having gotten a question right and the happy look that followed on Shizuru's face made the younger girl unconsciously smile to herself.

Of course, she didn't know how often Shizuru would be there until she'd catch the older walking past her classroom several times. She came to not mind Shizuru being at school with her since, the majority of the time, the older girl was surprisingly professional about her new job.

Their relationship hadn't changed since graduation. In fact, they had perhaps grown closer as friends. Now that everything had ended with First District and the responsibility of being a HiME now nonexistent, they both found more time for themselves, other people and each other. Shizuru was pleasantly stunned the first time Natsuki offered to hang out together somewhere. Normally, it would be Shizuru dragging a reluctant Natsuki to clothing shops and little festivals. Of course, this new change didn't entirely shift Natsuki's obstinate personality when they were together – which is how Shizuru preferred it.

Now, for example, while Natsuki was content with driving Shizuru home – as she often did when the older girl had to tutor at the school that day – her composure was still slightly adamant from having been lured so easily again.

"Where's your bike, may I ask?" Shizuru asked.

"It's in the shop." Natsuki answered casually. "It needed to be inspected."

"I thought you had Mr. Yumada to manage its upkeep?"

"I do, but I'd rather not get a ticket and be penalized for having an improperly-documented bike." She continued, "Besides, I like having a Jeep - I'll have something to drive when it's icy," she unconsciously ran her hands down the steering wheel.

"Speaking of being penalized," Shizuru started, making the other girl glance towards her curiously. "I thought maybe you could come to my apartment today and study for your literature class."

Natsuki felt herself deflate. "I'm doing fine," she stated irritably, trying to avoid any schoolwork while outside of school.

"I'm afraid it doesn't seem so." Shizuru returned, almost dramatically. At Natsuki's quizzical look, she continued, "I managed to see your grades."

Natsuki looked at her, stunned - as though fearful for whatever other privacy the older woman had invaded. "How did you see my grades?" she asked demandingly.

"I tutor for your teacher - he grants me access to his student's records so that I can reach out to whoever might need the help," she stated almost matter-of-factly.

Natsuki felt her face whiten. Who else does she tutor for? She thought weakly to herself, but was too afraid to ask. "W-Well, I… I think I'll be fine," she said stubbornly, not looking at the other girl.

Shizuru calmly looked down to her tote, checking its zipper. "Are you aware that you have an exam next week?" she asked nonchalantly.

The cobalt-haired girl unconsciously gripped the steering wheel tighter. "R… Really?" she slowly turned to look at her, as if begging her to be joking.

Shizuru smiled, humored. Natsuki slowed as they came to Shizuru's apartment complex. The older girl grabbed her tote and made to open the door. "So, I'll see you later tonight?" she inquired, smiling knowingly.

Natsuki was silent for a moment, not looking at the other girl. She shut her eyes, scrunched her face and gripped the steering wheel again, and then released. There was no way out. With a sigh, she acquiesced. "Yep."

The older girl chuckled silently and opened the door. She gave her parting words with a wave, laughing to herself when the azure-haired girl only raised a hand in return. As much as the younger girl accused Shizuru of being dramatic, the same could be said about Natsuki, Shizuru thought.

Tonight might be a difficult night. They both thought with a sense of jest, each foreseeing the trouble the other would bring to a simple study session.

Natsuki dropped her bags onto the floor next to the door. She walked the short distance from the door to her cheap loveseat sofa and, with a huff, she collapsed onto said sofa. Her apartment was small. Very small. The general purpose of the complex was to house students and, therefore, only provided the bare necessities: Whatever electronics you needed, you had to buy yourself. She didn't mind, however – she didn't need much to be comfortable. She had been to Shizuru's apartment and, of course, it was much larger; but then, the older girl could afford it thanks to her family's wealth.

Natsuki still received a respectable amount of money from her father - who was otherwise nonexistent in the affairs of her current life. However, she wanted to become more independent and not rely on a parent who - outside of providing her means of survival by way of money - didn't care about her emotional and mental welfare since before her mother's death. She didn't care to think of him, however: the questions, the memories, the feelings of betrayal and abandonment… they would swirl within her once again and make her body tighten like it had all through the previous school year when she was a HiME, searching for tightly-sealed answers to 'forbidden questions'. She didn't want to think of how she was then – when she cared for no one, believing that no one cared for her; of being blinded by vengeance. Though she never noticed it, the people around her saw the contrast between the Natsuki before the festival, and the Natsuki after - now she was, finally, content.

Natsuki heard a knock. "Who is it?" she called.

"It's your neighbor!" The familiar voice called back gaily, muffled by the door.

Natsuki chuckled to herself as she forced herself off the sofa and opened the door. There stood the stood the bronze-redhead she expected. "Mai, again, you live four floors above me. Unfortunately, I don't think that constitutes us being 'neighbors'." Natsuki informed with a smirk.

"If you're within walking distance for a cup of sugar, you're a neighbor." Mai returned, her cheerful disposition unwavering. With a small tone of seriousness, she then continued, "I just came by to ask if you could cover my shift tonight?"

Mai had pushed and prodded Natsuki to work with her at her waitressing job after the cobalt-haired girl began expressing interest in getting a job and accumulating her own income. As one would suspect of Natsuki and her personality, the cobalt-haired girl had a difficult time learning to be the subordinate of anybody. School was one thing, but catering to the needs of several people within one timeframe tested Natsuki's tolerance multiple times. She would have gotten fired several times if it weren't for Mai jumping in to save her, telling her boss that Natsuki would, from then on, be her responsibility. It got easier once Mai taught her how to control her impulses and, eventually, Natsuki was able to work without Mai having to be there. Sure, her patience would run thin often. But, if she wanted to make money, she figured, she'd have to learn to hone her emotions (at least while working).

"Sorry, can't." Natsuki replied contritely. She leaned against the door frame.

Mai looked at her, surprised. "Really? I thought you were looking for extra hours?"

"Yeah, but I have a tutoring session tonight," she answered, brooding at the thought.

"Tutor?" Mai quirked a brow, skeptical. "Since when did you start caring enough about your grades to meet with a tutor?" she joked.

"Since Shizuru informed me that I have an exam next week and my grades are terrible."

"Oh," she said lightly. There was a pause. "How's that going, by the way?" she asked, slightly curious.

"Good." Natsuki fiddled with her shirt as she spoke, as if finding something to busy her fingers. "We're still really good friends and still she seems okay with me not being able to harbor the feelings she has for me, so I'm glad for that," she answered with an air of comfortable confidence.

"Oh, well that's good." She said with a small, genuine smile. "I was actually asking about her tutoring job, but, I'm glad you two are doing well in that regard too," she finished truthfully.

"Oh." Natsuki felt herself blush a little, embarrassed at having assumed the wrong thing. "She likes it. Tutoring, I mean." She answered speedily, now fiddling with her loose hair. "Why did you want me to work your shift, by the way? What are you doing tonight?" she asked, changing the subject so as to save her from fiddling with anything else.

"I thought I had the night off and made a date with Tate," she sighed sullenly.

"Why don't you ask some of the other girls?" Natsuki offered.

"Nah, I'll just postpone the date. I'll need the money anyway."

"For what?"

"For the next date."

Natsuki looked at her incredulously. "You pay for the dates?" She couldn't help her protective nature towards her friends.

"Not always." Mai defended. "Tate's job as assistant Kendo instructor doesn't pay as well as my job does, so I feel I should help out here and there."

"Hm." Natsuki wasn't impressed, but didn't say anything. "Maybe Takao could lend some advice with getting money," she said jokingly.

"Takao? Our cook? Ha! That 'playboy' spends money faster than he earns it!" She laughed. "I know he's a good guy and is good for favors, but no."

Natsuki chuckled. Takao wasn't much older than either of them and called himself a playboy when he really wasn't. He was one of the few men Natsuki didn't mind being around.

"I should probably head back up before Mikoto starts crawling down the stairs for me out of hunger." Mai said after checking her watch. "See you!" She waved as she turned.

"See you." Natsuki went to shut the door.

"Have a good time!" Mai called.

Natsuki didn't know if she was kidding or not. Either way, she muttered her "Thank you" and shut the door.

Once parked, she went around to the back seat and reached in to heave the heavy book bag over her shoulder. She initially didn't want to out of laziness, but she put every book her literature class had been using in the bag. Something told her that Shizuru already had every book the classes used to ensure her own preparedness for her tutoring sessions. But, just in case – to provide Shizuru with some sense of her own austerity towards wanting to get her diploma this year, and to avoid any scolding from her, however light it might be – she brought them all.

She walked from her parking space, through the guest lot, and came up to the front of the tall apartment complex. This complex housed much more than what her apartment building offered. Not only that, but the building had better upkeep than her own. She could see the flower-less plants hanging in various balconies. Lights were shining through the twilight, passed glass doors and windows with translucent curtains.

Their community laundry rooms are probably a lot cleaner than ours. She thought, somewhat envious. She stepped up onto the single concrete step in front of the entrance and opened the first of two doors. Once inside, she turned towards a panel of lit buzzers on the left wall. There must have been over fifty buzzers, each with its own number written on a white tab next to it. She looked at them, once again finding herself slightly overwhelmed.

What number is she again? Her finger hovered over groups of them as she scanned the numbers. She had her phone, but stubbornly left it in her pocket - she wanted to remember on her own. I think it's… A part of her just wanted to hit all of them at once and just listen for Shizuru's voice in the mix of questioning receptors.With a tentative press on the 28th buzzer, she exhaled and waited. A moment later, her body involuntarily tensed at the sudden 'click' of the intercom.

"Natsuki?"

She exhaled at the familiar voice, her body relaxing as she confirmed, "Yeah."

"Please, come up!" 'Click'

Within seconds, Natsuki caught the sound of the thick click of the bolt lock retracting into the second door, allowing her access to the foyer. She opened it and made her way to one of two elevators, listening as the door's bolt clicked back into place in the door frame. As she entered the clean elevator, she was thankful Shizuru's apartment wasn't too far from ground level.

Within minutes, she was in front of Shizuru's door. She knocked, her shoulder aching from the weight of her bag. After a few seconds, the door opened.

"Hello, Natsuki." The older girl said, smiling. She was still in her suit, her feet bare. "Ah, I'm glad you changed."

Natsuki looked down at herself: She had replaced her school uniform with a pair of jeans and a dark green zip-up sweater. As casual as the outfit was, it made her look more feminine than she might have realized since the sweater hugged her figure and the jeans were flare, giving her legs shape.

"Well, I didn't want to spend the whole day in my uniform." Natsuki explained as though it were obvious. "I'm surprised you haven't changed out of your suit."

"I was just about to. Have you eaten?" Shizuru asked, leading the younger girl into her spacious, well-kept apartment. In front of them was the living room, and just passed that was the glass sliding doors that lead to Shizuru's wide balcony.

Natsuki dropped her bag by the wide Maru coffee table in the living room, the beige carpet cushioning its landing. "No, actually. Why?" she bent down to unzip a pocket of her bag.

"I thought we'd make something while we're working." Shizuru's words came more as a pleased statement than an offering.

Dubious, Natsuki looked above from her crouching position to where the taller girl stood. "Make something? Like what?"

Shizuru smiled. "I know you don't like anything complicated or extravagant, so I thought maybe something simple – pizza?"

"Pizza?" Natsuki said, uncertain. "Like, store-bought?"

"No, homemade – I have everything we need to make whatever kind you would like." At Natsuki's unchanging expression, she continued. "We can consider the cooking-process to be our study breaks."

Study breaks. That caught Natsuki's attention, as Shizuru knew it would. The younger girl didn't really like to cook, but found herself more at-ease at the thought of making something as casual as a pizza. Come to think of it, she thought, I don't think I've ever seen Shizuru cook. I know we did that cake-baking event together but all she did was sit there and let the others do the work. She felt a knot at the back of her head. If she pulls that on me, I'm outta here.

"Okay." Natsuki agreed. "What should we do now?"

"Well, let me change quickly. Then perhaps we can start making the pizza and, while it's in the oven, we'll study." Shizuru offered amiably.

"Okay, so I'll just wait here then?" Natsuki asked absently as she worked to pull her books out and lay them on the table.

Shizuru looked at her for a minute, as if pensive. "Unless you would like to help me change?" she smiled suggestively.

The cobalt-haired girl then stopped her rummaging and blushed, wanting to throw her hand to her face. Damn it! "I-I'll wait for you here," she stammered, not looked at the other woman. The chestnut-haired girl tisked and made a disheartened sound before heading to her bedroom.

Even after Shizuru had left the room, Natsuki continued to stare at the table, her face scrunched slightly in annoyance. Really, she was more annoyed at herself than Shizuru: The worst thing is it's always me that provides the opening. She thought to herself. She sighed submissively. I have to be more careful.

Natsuki found herself looking down at the books now splayed across the table; she debated organizing them, just to show some respect in her friend's home. After a moment of contemplating, she decided to do so, organizing the best way she cared to: stacked without any sense of order or neatness. After that was done, she turned her eyes to the balcony in not far in front of her. Feeling a bit curious, she pushed herself off the floor and walked leisurely to the glass door.

Through the clean glass, emerald eyes swept over the tops of the trees only a few feet from the balcony's railing. The leaves were just starting to turn - autumn's foliage beginning to take effect. She slid open the door, welcoming the cool breeze against her face and neck. The hair around her face rustled softly, cobalt strands dancing. She barely heard the idle chatter from neighbors and people walking on the street; or children's shrieks of laughter from a nearby playground. She walked out onto the painted, concrete balcony, only just noticing the two small chairs and table out of the corner of her eye to her right. Natsuki wasn't sure if Shizuru ever used them; they were white and plastic - not typically Shizuru's taste - giving her the inclination that they likely came with the apartment.

A scratching sound caught Natsuki's ear. Curious, she looked low over the railing and into the trees. Passed the colored leaves, Natsuki spotted patched black and white fur slinking along tree limbs. Gold, diamond-shaped eyes met hers. A cat? Its whiskers twitched against the wind as it looked away, the leaves now obstructing Natsuki's view of the feline. From what Natsuki could tell as it moved in and out of field of view into the trees, it was healthy but somewhat thin. Cats weren't her preferred pet, but she didn't mind them: she admired their independent nature, but would rather have a dog sleep next to her than a cat. She hummed pensively to herself before turning from the cat and heading back inside, out of the growing chill of the coming night.

As she slid the door shut, she heard soft footsteps far behind her. Natsuki turned and quirked a brow at Shizuru's attire: Sweatpants? The older girl came out wearing charcoal-colored sweatpants and a light burgundy shirt. Her hair was up in a pristine ponytail, chestnut hair falling forward and framing her face. "When did you start wearing sweatpants?" Natsuki asked, still looking at the other girl curiously. The article seemed like an unusual choice for what she knew of Shizuru's taste in fashion – she was used to seeing the older girl in well-fit designer jeans and skirts, even on the weekends.

Shizuru smiled at the question as she moved around, clearing the kitchen counters of utensil holders and other bulky kitchenware. She let out a brief, thoughtful hum. "Perhaps when I started spending my evenings grading papers for the teachers I help." Once the counters were clear and wiped, she went into the wooden cabinets above the back counter and began extracting various (what Natsuki guessed) ingredients. "Jeans aren't very comfortable when sitting for long periods of time at my coffee table-" gesturing towards the table in the living room "-where I usually do my grading," she noted casually while Natsuki approached the kitchen's island counter.

The younger girl agreed with her on that point – even riding her bike in jeans for extended periods of time would eventually make her knees feel stiff and sore from the article's bunching at the knee's apex. Natsuki had learned that the older woman wasn't into fashion purely to please other people but for herself – because she legitimately liked wearing what she wore - and the younger girl came to respect that (though she never told her). Still, Natsuki found herself somewhat amused at Shizuru's choice of outfit; though it was casual, it looked strangely formal from a distance since the shirt and sweatpants were fitted to her curves.

Even sweatpants and a t-shirt look good on her... The cobalt-haired girl thought, feeling herself sink into a brief, shallow state of self-pity as she leaned her weight on the stone top of the island. Somehow, I'm not surprised.

"Would you like me to make the dough, and you place the toppings?" Shizuru's ponytail swung and rested on her other shoulder as turned to ask, an inquiring look on her face.

Natsuki blinked at her. She's gonna make the pizza dough? She looked at her, impressed. "Um, sure." Emerald eyes watched as the other woman smiled and, without protest, turned to start measuring the dry ingredients. After a minute, Natsuki looked at the older woman's back smartly, "Where was this willingness to work during the baking competition?"

"I didn't have an interest at the time," she answered simply, succinctly. "I will only cook for you, Natsuki." She turned and gave the other woman a smooth, flirty wink. The other woman only blushed lightly before closing her eyes and looking away, her brows furrowing childishly. She heard the chestnut-haired girl giggle lightly but didn't humor her with a response.

"Can I have some water?" Natsuki asked, her expression loosening only a little.

"Certainly," Shizuru gestured towards her stainless steel refrigerator as she began heating a cup of water for the dough. "Help yourself."

Natsuki grabbed a glass from its cabinet and filled it with water from the refrigerator. As she began drinking, the older woman began sprinkling flour over her work station. With all of the dry ingredients now mixed in a bowl, Shizuru poured in the oil and the heated water and began mixing. Soon, the powdery mixture became a thick, sticky sphere of dough. Shizuru took the ball and placed it on the powdered counter. She brought out a rolling pin from a lower cabinet.

"Would you mind, Natsuki?" she asked humbly as she handed the pin to the younger girl.

"Sure," Natsuki responded, her tightened expression now faded as her attention shifted elsewhere. Pushing her sleeves up past her elbows, she took the wooden cooking tool and began pressing and rolling the dough to a pie shape. The cobalt-haired girl felt her level of irritation rising as the dough began sticking to the pin. She growled, rolling the pin back and forth as if hoping the dough would release its hold on the cylindrical tool. She heard Shizuru chuckle lightly behind her before seeing a fist full of flour come into her view and sifting flour onto the exposed portions of the pin. Shizuru tore the dough from the pin and continued blanketing the pin with flour. After that, Natsuki realized, it was much easier to roll out the now oval-shaped pie of dough. Though the older woman wasn't much better than Natsuki in the realm of cooking, she still raised a white-coated hand to stifle her silent laughter as she watched the struggling girl. The faces the younger girl made in moments like this made time-consuming things like cooking all the more worth it, Shizuru felt.

With a final roll, Natsuki placed the pin to the side and looked at Shizuru, "Now what?" she asked expectantly.

"Now," Shizuru went into the refrigerator and pulled out a stacked pile of plastic and metal-cased food. "You can lay the toppings," she said brightly. The tawny-haired girl placed the pile next to the younger girl. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to try something different, so I bought everything. Is that alright?"

Natsuki looked at the toppings: olives, peppers, ham, pepperoni, anchovies… Natsuki continued reading. "Uh, y-yeah, that's fine." She felt guilt weigh on top of her when she realized she would likely not use a lot of what the other woman bought. "I wish you wouldn't spend so much on me though," she murmured guiltily.

Shizuru looked at her with mild curiosity before smiling warmly. "You're sweet. But don't worry, I like treating you," she said humbly. That was something that she always adored about Natsuki – she may exude a cold visage but, in reality, she was a very caring person on the inside.

Natsuki regarded her culpably and silently sighed. "Alright. Well," She turned to the dough and began pouring and spreading the pizza sauce she extracted from the stack. Next, the cheese… While Natsuki worked, Shizuru turned the oven on. Natsuki eyed the anchovies and, out of curiosity, threw a few onto a corner of the pie. "Do you have mayo?" She asked almost anticipatively.

The tawny-haired girl smiled brightly as she produced the item from the refrigerator as evidence. "Of course."

Natsuki grinned blithely, as though she were a kid being promised her ice cream after dinner. As if operating on newfound vigor, she sprinkled the dough with more choice toppings and soon stepped back, expectant of what to do next. Shizuru stepped next to her and pulled out a pizza stone. Emerald eyes watched as she laid the cookware next to the dressed dough.

It's a good thing I didn't already eat beforehand – she's so prepared. The younger girl thought to herself. I wonder what she would have done if I turned down the pizza idea.

"Would you mind helping me lift the dough onto the stone?" Shizuru asked lightly, her voice bringing Natsuki's traveling mind to the present.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah."

Shizuru already had her arms under the dough, being careful not to shift Natsuki's handiwork. The younger girl lifted the sides and both girls maneuvered the flaccid, oval pie onto the pizza stone. She could feel the skin of the older girl's arms brush against the sides of her hands as they moved, particles of flour reducing any kind of friction. Both carefully removed their flour-dusted arms from beneath the pizza. Shizuru, then, went into another cupboard and pulled out mitts; she slipped one on and slid the stone into the sizzling heat of the oven.

As Natsuki watched Shizuru prepare the timer on the microwave, she became suddenly aware of what would likely come next. "Should…" She searched for a distraction, "Should we clean?" she asked, hopeful.

Crimson eyes looked at her knowingly, amusement dancing in her eyes. "That can wait. First, we should get to work." A smile played across her face at Natsuki's childish grimace.

"Fine," Natsuki grumbled as the older woman led her by hand to her wide coffee table. By this point in their friendship, the younger girl had become used to Shizuru's touch. Not that it was the other woman's fault – physical contact was always something to which Natsuki was unaccustomed. She would still feel herself stiffen slightly when Shizuru wrapped her arms around her in a tight, playful hold; but no longer did she fight it either.

As they came to the table, Shizuru chuckled silently at the haphazardly stacked books. She took a few into her hands and scanned the titles. "Ah, yes. You're reading romantic dramas," she said, recalling the teacher's particular syllabus.

Natsuki sat down with a thump, crossing her legs under the table. "Yep," she sighed. She hated romantic dramas. If she had to read anything, she preferred classical works leaning toward the action genre, such as Chushingura*. But then, she didn't like to read either; she had no idea why the other woman liked it so much.

"Well, where do you think you are struggling?" Shizuru asked as she seated herself adjacent from the younger girl, her legs lying elegantly to the side.

Natsuki was somewhat surprised at the level of sedateness the other woman was showing. It was clear that she cared about the younger girl's academic welfare; Natsuki was grateful for that, she supposed. "I just never follow what's going on," she admitted adversely. After a thoughtful pause, she hesitantly reached into her book bag and pulled out some rumpled packets of paper. "This also might be part of the problem." Sheepishly, she handed the packets to the other woman, who then looked them over.

She began to snigger despite herself but quickly stifled it, not wanting Natsuki to become offended - red ink lined what she assumed to be Natsuki's typed reports, "Poorly Written" hanging at the top of each front page. "Are all of your reports like this?" Shizuru asked as she flipped through the pages, reading various red-marked sentences. She was surprised; she knew the younger took her written reports and exams very seriously, making certain to do well in that area of her academics at the very least – even going so far as to call it her 'policy' of sorts.

Natsuki looked away, agitated and abashed. "Most of them," she downplayed. "I feel like he's grading me harder than last year."

"He might be," the older woman nodded speculatively, noting a few areas where slang had (likely unconsciously) been used, though she didn't see how that would affect her grade so severely. "Because you're retaking the class, he's probably pushing you harder since you already know most of the material." Shizuru laid the papers down and, leaning forward on her arms, set her crimson eyes onto the younger girl. "If that's the case, I could proofread your work before you turn it in; perhaps he'll have nothing to complain about if he knows I looked them over."

"Sure," Natsuki said with a casual shrug, "whatever will help." She didn't know why, but the idea of Shizuru reading her reports made her feel more self-conscious than if it were some random person. Perhaps it was because Shizuru's thoughts carried more weight to her than any other person. At least the older girl knew Natsuki's parlance well enough to understand her direction in each report, she figured.

Shizuru slid the papers back towards the other girl. "Since these have already been graded, unfortunately there isn't much we can do for them now. But, please bring any future papers to me at least a day before the due date. I would prefer to work on them together as well - it matters not where the location." She smiled kindly.

Natsuki only blinked at her, almost awed at the level of professionalism in her tone. "Wow. This whole teacher-aide thing has really sunken into you, huh?" she commented.

Shizuru's smiled, humbled. "Perhaps. Of course, I think my experience as student council president made for an easy transition; tutoring, however, is more one-on-one," she explained thoughtfully.

"Do you like that?" Natsuki asked with a skeptical quirk of her brow – she didn't know about Shizuru, but she knew she personally wouldn't have the patience to handle childish, moronic underclassmen for several hours.

Shizuru's smile slowly widened, as though thoughtful once again. "It's grown on me." Natsuki's brow quirked again, this time out of mild intrigue. The tawny-haired girl then turned to the rest of the stacked books and brought them forward. "Now," she began, "let's study for your exam." Natsuki's shoulders promptly slumped.

The next twenty minutes went by faster than Natsuki would let herself believe. The older woman gave her memorization tips while reviewing key points of her recent readings; Shizuru knew each teacher's teaching style and, to ensure her pupils' success, had already studied the instructor's favored topics. The hazelnut-haired girl would grin to herself whenever she caught that certain glint in Natuki's eye – that 'click' of understanding and the mild excitement and self-praise at having guessed an answer correctly. She liked seeing it in her pupils' eyes (to her, it was what made her work worth the time spent), but she loved catching it in those emerald eyes.

Not ten minutes went by when Natsuki caught a whiff of something acrid. It was weak, so she sniffed again. "Is something burning?" The moment she spoke, realization hit her and she flew from beneath the table to the kitchen. She grabbed the mitts, threw them on and opened the oven. Glancing at the pizza, she reached in for the handles of the pizza stone. Just in time, she thought as she recalled the browned crust she saw, black just beginning to form around the edges.

When she began to move from the oven, she felt a sudden, sharp searing pain on her forearm. She hissed a curse through her teeth at the sensation. Despite the pain, she never let go of the stone or halted her deliberately-slow movement from the oven to the stovetop. Once the stone was set on the stovetop and her mitts were removed, she went to examine her arm. The cobalt-haired girl, however, only managed a glimpse before her wrist was grabbed by a soft yet forceful hand. The hand pulled her arm around and, in an instant, she felt a dry yet cool cloth pressing lightly on the flesh wound. She winced at the initial sting of contact before relaxing under the merciful cool and finally turned her eyes to her wrist's captor.

Natsuki's brow - slightly furrowed in agitation at not only having hurt herself because of her own carelessness but also at Shizuru's sometimes overprotective tendencies - softened at what she saw:

Scarlet eyes gazed down upon the covered wound, heedful yet calm and warm, like a mother aiding her child through their first fever. (The older woman knew that the girl in front of her was no stranger to pain, but that didn't make her any less worrisome toward the younger girl.) Free from its elastic bind, a collection of tawny hair lay softly on the older woman's cheek as her head tilted to the side. The hand of the wounded arm was held close to the taller woman's cheek; soft, long fingers wrapping around the wrist in a tender grasp.

Shizuru… Emerald eyes stared at the other woman's gentle expression, magnetized. Though she knew the ex-student council president was capable of displaying such care, the sight rendered her speechless every time. Rarely would Shizuru let herself attempt to heal any pain she knew the younger girl could handle; but it was in those rare moments that Natsuki managed a glimpse of somebody who was more than just a tease, or an ever-composed officer. Though she would never tell Shizuru, she felt special in those moments – that their friendship was real. Of course, that wasn't to say that she ever doubted the legitimacy of their friendship since Shizuru had affirmed it all those years ago. But, these acts of sincere human kindness and care solidified the fact, and she was thankful.

Natsuki's thoughts trailed when she felt Shizuru's breath inadvertently warm the back of her thumb. Her eyes widened slightly at the realization that if she were to let her hand fall back just an inch, the knuckles of her fore and middle fingers would graze the other woman's cheek. She blushed lightly at the thought; luckily, the small blush she currently wore (unbeknownst to her) camouflaged it well. The back of her arm, however, hung at an even shorter distance from the other woman's ample chest (Natsuki only discovered this when she felt the soft warmth of body heat barely touch her arm).

Natsuki's blush couldn't hide the darkened shade of pink that rose to her cheeks. Luckily, Shizuru was too engrossed in healing the burn to notice. Natsuki watched as Shizuru removed the cloth, only to quickly flip it over and reapply a piece of the cloth unaltered by enflamed skin. Natsuki was about to protest when the cooling sensation returned to her burnt flesh and effectively silenced her. With a silent sigh, she indulged in the relief for a second before looking back up at the other woman. Here, she found crimson eyes looking back at her. A small smile grew on the older woman's face.

"How does it feel?" Shizuru asked softly - almost intimately.

Natsuki's cheeks colored lightly as she looked away, fidgety (though not entirely because of Shizuru's tone, but rather her concern). "Better," she admitted, then raised her eyes to meet the crimson orbs once again.

Shizuru's smile only widened a bit at the adorable expression on the other girl's face before finally removing the cloth from the wound and placing it onto the counter next to her. Both examined the reddened flesh: atop her arm was a cut-shaped burn running about an inch-long across and three millimeters wide. Natsuki could see the burnt skin already begin to emboss, but wasn't wholly concerned.

"Hm, that won't do," Shizuru murmured, likely commenting on the same development Natsuki noticed. She reached for the cloth again, but Natsuki stopped her. Crimson eyes swept back to find Natsuki looking at her softly, a small, knowing smile on the younger girl's face.

"It's fine," Natsuki assured. "Really. I doesn't even sting all that much," she said honestly.

"Are you certain?" Shizuru asked, regarding the other girl with a semi-dubious look.

Natsuki let out a breath of laughter through her nose as she quirked a brow. "You don't have to mother me so much, Shizuru. I'm fine," she said good-naturedly despite the adolescent tone.

Shizuru smirked as she let go of Natsuki's arm. "I'll decide when and how to mother my Natsuki." The older woman proclaimed with an air of suggestiveness as she moved around the stilled girl to rummage through a drawer full of various metal utensils.

The younger girl pinked and immediately pouted again at the older woman's wit, unthinkingly crossing her arms and wincing at the sting of contact against her clothing. She held in any vocal expression of pain however, so as not to supply Shizuru with any more verbal 'ammunition'. Within seconds, a metal wheel was held before her. She turned her head to the older woman.

Shizuru smiled. "Would Natsuki mind?" she asked as she opened her hand to offer the cutter's handle. "I'm afraid I might not have the strength she possesses."

Though she was uncertain whether that sentence was intended to be a statement or a tease, Natsuki muttered her compliance as she took the pizza cutter and turned back to the pizza. Careful of her burn, she cut six large (though oddly-shaped) slices and set the cutter into the sink while Shizuru set down the plates.

"Only three anchovies?" Shizuru asked curiously at the small grouping of fish on one particular slice.

Natsuki shrugged. "I'll give it a try." She took the slice and placed it on a plate, then added a precautionary second slice not decorated with fish. Feeling her stomach already begin to rumble at the appetizing scent of their freshly-made product, Natsuki wasted no time in grabbing another glass of water, returning to the table, shoving the books to one side in windshield-wiper fashion and positioned herself to sit. She was halfway to the floor when she stopped, "Oh wait!" She sprung back up from her lowered position, ran to the fridge, snatched her beloved condiment and happily returned to her original seat, unceremoniously plopping down to sit with her legs crossed in front of her.

The younger girl was too engrossed in her food to notice the grin that played on the older woman's face as she ran about the room; unaware of the adoring look she was being given. However, her obliviousness was likely a good thing: often when Natsuki caught that look she would immediately become self-conscious and retract her naturally kid-like tendencies – something Shizuru would be saddened to see.

The older woman came forward with her meal in hand and seated herself, gracefully resting her legs to the side while Natsuki, with both hands, squirted the mayonnaise into a mound on her plate. Cradling the triangle-shaped slice with both hands, she brought the point to her mouth and was about to bite when something caught her eye. She felt her shoulders drop at the sight of the woman adjacent to her bringing two metal utensils to the food resting on her plate.

Oh, that's right, she inwardly sighed, a hint of agitation evident in her muscles. She uses a fork and knife. She blushed at her own impropriety, though she knew it couldn't be helped. The first time she saw the cultured woman use a fork and knife, she – out of self-consciousness – attempted to do the same when, in the end, it only exacerbated the situation and only served to entertain the older woman:

"Really, it matters not to me how you eat your food, Natsuki," Shizuru had said laughingly, trying to calm the indignant girl down after ten minutes of trial-and-error with the metal tools. "And anyway, I think Natsuki's adorable just the same!" Natsuki was still uncertain as to whether Shizuru meant to make the blood rush to her cheeks.

"Natsuki?" Shizuru's voice rang through the other woman's ears, shaking her out of a memory she had unconsciously slipped into. "Is something wrong?"

Natsuki blinked. "Huh?" Her eyes fell onto the pizza still hanging in front of her face. "Oh," she pinked, embarrassed at her own inattentiveness. "No, nothing." she took a bite, trying to pull and cut the stringy cheese with her teeth. Her mouth savored the flavors. "Wow," she began, food muffling her words, "this is good."

"It is, isn't it?" Shizuru affirmed, already cutting out a third piece with her knife.

After a minute of comfortable silence, a question sprang into Natsuki's head. She gulped down her second large bite and looked at the older woman with casual curiosity. "Can I ask you a question, Shizuru?"

Surprised at Natsuki's semi-austere inquiry, crimson eyes regarded her with intrigue. "Of course, Natsuki." Her knife and fork worked on her next piece.

"If you were dating a guy, who would you expect to pay for your dates? You or him?"

As though stunned and perhaps suspicious of the question's purpose, the hazelnut-haired girl's movements stopped only for a split-second before resuming; the other girl noticed the brief halt but thought nothing of it. Shizuru let out a thoughtful sound. "Well," she began as she wrapped cheese around her fork and brought the pizza bite to her mouth. "Traditionally-speaking, I suppose would expect the man to pay." At Natsuki's affirmative nod, she continued inquisitively, "May I ask the reason behind your question?"

Natsuki swallowed her fourth bite. "Because Mai was telling me that she has been paying for some of her dates with Tate and," she paused for words, "I dunno, maybe I'm just a traditionalist." She returned her attention to her diminishing slice.

"Or maybe Natsuki's just protective," Shizuru quipped with a smile.

The younger girl then smiled to herself. "Maybe."

After a moment, a thought brought a well-manicured finger to the hazelnut-haired girl's chin. "Although, wouldn't that mean that Natsuki is the man in this relationship?"

Natsuki coughed and sputtered on the water that she had only just began to drink. "What!?" she rasped, her eyes squinting as she tried to inhale. 'Relationship'?

Wine-red eyes thoughtfully looked overhead. "I do recall several occasions where Natsuki would offer to pay for meals, instead of letting me pay."

"That's because you always pay!" Natsuki's voice rose, regaining control of her lungs.

"And that uncomfortable look you get on your face whenever I do pay."

"Th-That's because I feel bad!"

"And when we go to café's, you always order for me if I'm late."

Feeling her blood beginning to boil, Natsuki leaned over the table, as though expecting the gesture to help drive her point. "That's because I know what you like and I want to save our waiter a trip! And what does that have to do with paying?"

Shizuru regarded her with brows lightly raised, as if surprised at the other woman's unconsciousness to her own actions, "Why, it's such a chivalrous thing to do! So sweet and thoughtful…" She pressed her hand to her cheek, closing her eyes wistfully. "And in the end, Natsuki is the one who pays for the drinks and yet she never asks for money in return. She's truly a catch!"

"A… a catch?"

"And that motorcycle! Quite the masculine sport…" The older woman trailed thoughtfully.

The blushing girl only sat there, mouth agape; she was firmly pressed into a corner. Her jaw rose and fell as if trying to concoct words.

The older woman turned her attention back to the girl beside her, raising a finger in a matter-of-factly fashion. "And, if I may also note…"

No you may not… Natsuki's thoughts ran speedily her head, fearful.

The well-manicured finger pointed toward Natsuki's legs. "The way Natsuki is sitting –agura style – is fit for a man, yes?"

Natsuki looked down at her legs, horrified to find the cultured woman's words to be true. Have I always sat like this? She wanted to ask, but didn't dare. Vexed, her back slouched in contempt as she fixed her narrowed emerald eyes onto the other woman. Red, inquisitive eyes gazed back at her with a small, knowing smile. With ground teeth, she dropped her pizza, harshly planted her hands onto the table, untied her legs and swung them around to her side. A deep 'thud' produced from her feet as they flopped callously onto the carpet floor, her posture now mirroring Shizuru's yokozuwari style – the traditional Japanese posture for women.

"How's this? Better?" Natsuki asked through her clenched jaw.

"Better?" The older woman blinked, perplexed as she scrutinized the other girl's form. "In terms of attractiveness, I would say there's no difference!" she grinned, closed eyes smiling brightly.

Flustered and confused, Natsuki let out an exasperated growl as she let her head drop, her hands balling into tight fists. "Shizuru, you're…" infuriating, she wanted to say. Her long breath, however, made her tightened muscles slowly relax. Remembering her friend's sense of humor and the pointlessness of admonishing her, Natsuki sighed. Blinking the tension out of her eyes, she raised her head. "You're something else, Shizuru."

Ignoring the other woman's humored expression, she turned her attention to her pizza and, with knit brows, blindly bit into its flesh. Her eyes snapped open at the odd taste that invaded her mouth. What the hell? Her agitation already returning to its brink, she forced herself to chew and swallow the bite she had already claimed before impatiently examining the pizza. After pulling at some cheese, her eyes caught something gleaming against the light from the kitchen. She recognized the tiny scales. Oh, right. She eyed the cooked anchovy as though debating whether to re-experience its taste and texture. As if to settle the debate, Natsuki dipped the bread into the used pool of mayonnaise and took an experimental bite.

"Mm. Yeah. Much better," she mumbled to herself as she went for another bite, unaware of Shizuru's amused smirk.

Within several minutes, Natsuki had wolfed down her second pizza. Her stomach satisfied, she turned to the woman next to her and idly watched as the older woman finished her plate. She looked behind her and sighed at the visual reminder of the culinary tornado that hit Shizuru's kitchen. Though she disliked housework, she felt she owed the older girl a favor for purchasing the meal.

She hadn't realized Shizuru had stood up until she caught her plate being taken out of the corner of her eye. Not wanting to be taken as unthankful for Shizuru's hospitality, her hand shot to the plate. "Wait!" At the older woman's somewhat startled, quizzical look, she continued. "I uh," she trailed, now feeling a bit sheepish at her abrupt gesture. Green eyes dropped and searched the floor; she felt the grease under her thumb. The younger girl wasn't very smooth when it came to purposeful chivalry – she could never seem to look the other woman in the eye. "Let me do that," her hand still clasping onto the plate, she pushed herself from the floor and, avoiding eye-contact, took Shizuru's plate from her other hand and marched to the kitchen.

Though surprised at the other girl's actions, Shizuru had an idea of what the other girl was doing. She felt her lips curl upwards. She decided, however, to not take advantage of the opening the younger girl provided and spared her. "Thank you, Natsuki."

The younger girl pinked despite herself, busying her eyes and hands on the dishes and utensils she began to pile into the sink. "D-Don't worry about it." Though doing the dishes wasn't initially a planned objective for Natsuki, it suddenly became one: She hastily searched for the dish soap and, once found, turned on the facet and began washing. She didn't know why she felt so tight, or why she wouldn't let herself meet Shizuru's eyes. Maybe it was because she felt uncomfortable receiving gratitude, she figured. Or maybe it was because she was voluntarily doing dishes for somebody who knew she hated housework and, therefore, felt exposed to Shizuru – as if expecting the older woman to comment or make a coquettish remark at any point.

To her surprise (and relief), none came. Once Shizuru began to move about behind her, opening cabinets and wiping counters - assisting the younger girl - she began to relax. Maybe I give Shizuru too little credit sometimes. Granted, she does sometimes tease me almost to the point of obnoxiousness. But, at least she's not malicious about it, she mused, stacking the washed dishes onto the counter. She pulled a utensil out of the soapy water and began scrubbing. She's just so damn unpredictable! Her brows furrowed unconsciously at the thought. She sighed, maybe I'm thinking too much of this too - offering to clean dishes. I mean, it's not like it's a 'gentlemanly' thing to do, she tried to reason, words of their previous conversation bubbling into her head. Friends offer to clean their friends' dishes, right? It's not unusual, she paused, green eyes blindly staring into the sink; the movement of a lithe form close behind her went undetected by the depth of her ponderings. Maybe I should ask Mai… her brow quirked, suddenly skeptical, she'll probably think it's a weird question.

Without so much as a warning, she felt a hand deftly cup her breast. With a hard gasp, her consciousness was launched back to reality while her body sprang up and reflexively wrangled itself from the invasive contact. "WHAT THE HELL!?" Natsuki bellowed as she turned to glare vehemently at the perpetrator, protectively covering herself with her arms while her face filled with color. Speaking of unpredictable…!

Shizuru only looked at her with mild surprise; though somehow, something told Natsuki that it wasn't because of the younger girl's actions. As if to answer her question, Shizuru spoke: "Is Natsuki getting bigger?"

Natsuki regarded her, nonplussed. What? It took a few seconds for Shizuru's meaning to hit her; her wide eyes shot down to her covered breasts. She pressed her arms tighter against herself as she shot enflamed emerald eyes back up to the older girl. "Y-You couldn't have just ASKED?"

The older woman only chuckled softly. "Well, I would have, but Natsuki's so modest when it comes to such a subject," she pressed her hand to her cheek as a charmed expression enveloped her eyes.

Exasperated by the woman's antics, she dropped her arms and opened her mouth to speak when Shizuru, upon seeing her uncovered bust, burst into laughter. Natsuki, bewildered, looked back down: a perfectly preserved, powdery-white handprint held onto the younger girl's breast. Much like the long, ghostly-white fingers that stretched up the covered flesh, Natsuki's blush crept up her face like a flooding water tank.

Though her body was frozen, she snapped her investigatory eyes to the counter beside the still-giggling Shizuru. She eyed the muddled collection of flour there vehemently. "'Checking my bra size' my ass - you did that on purpose!" she exclaimed accusatorily, flying a pointed finger at the other woman.

Shizuru only shrugged amicably, "why Natsuki, I can't help it that my hands are dirtied after cleaning." While Natsuki struggled for a rebuke, the older woman turned to the flour behind her and pulled the used powder into her hand. "Besides," she walked up next to the younger girl, opening a cabinet under the sink to the garbage. With her voice dropped low, wine-red eyes turned to the younger girl, who looked at her dubiously, "who said I was checking your bra size?" As if timed, the older woman threw the flour into the waste basket, shut the cabinet, and gave the girl a cheeky wink.

Natsuki blinked at her, confused; the emphasis in Shizuru's words completely bypassing her. "But… wait… you…" The younger girl's attempt at piecing the puzzle together in her head was as stagnant as her words. How could she tell if I've gotten bigger if she wasn't feeling my cup size?

As if to answer her question, Shizuru casually remarked, "Really Natsuki, you shouldn't let lethargy take precedence over physical comfort; if you're spilling out of your bras, you should have called me."

"Spi… Spilling!?" Natsuki's hands flew to her chest again. "B-But I'm wearing a sweater! How could you tell!?" her hands tried clandestinely to feel herself through her dark green zip-up, as if attempting to figure out what gave her away, or the secret behind Shizuru's 'talent'.

Shizuru grinned. "Experience." At Natsuki's strange look, she elaborated, "Natsuki cannot deny that I know her bust size like the back of my hand. Or, rather, front," her grin turned impish at her own pun.

The younger girl was effectively silenced; she was, once again, frozen in shock yet hot with embarrassment not only by the older woman's suggestive jibe but also by the truth of it: instead of using a measuring tape (like most women who worked at lingerie shops), Shizuru preferred a more 'hands-on' method: "It's far more effective than measuring tape: what if the bra the patron is wearing is an incorrect fit? It would throw off the measurements and, therefore, cause confusion and extend the appointment!" The other woman would explain with conviction. "One must be thorough in order to find the proper fitting and ensure the customer's satisfaction," she would say as though it were her mantra - even if she was only a volunteer sales associate for the store. While Natsuki understood her point, she often felt that Shizuru's explications were just well-developed excuses to be touchy.

A string of curses flew through her head, all aimed at the other woman. Yet, she knew speaking them wouldn't serve any good as they would only fall on deaf, proud ears. She looked down and growled at the sight of the white handprint that, while no longer quite as bold due to her arms repeatedly brushing her chest, remained plastered to her sweater like an irrevocable stain. She speedily moved to dust it off with her hand, fingers working furiously.

Shizuru stepped forward, taking a paper towel and wetting a small, bunched corner under the faucet. "Here, allow me to help," not waiting for permission, she took and pulled down on a portion of Natsuki's sweater, stretching the mark.

Natsuki watched in horror as the wet towel closed in on her breast. "What? No!" Natsuki's fingers fought Shizuru's hands, though her efforts didn't halt or even impede the older woman's advance.

"Oh, but I must - this was my doing after all," she surmised, unaffected by Natsuki's protests.

The younger girl's eyes widened as the towel became mere centimeters away. Her heart raced – she felt like a trepid beast watching a gloved hand enter its cage. Hadn't Shizuru done enough to her already! Touching her chest without permission was one thing, but to invite herself to rub water on her chest surely without any sense of reserve… it was too much! Frantic, she shut her eyes and, instantly, instinct took over: With her left hand she forcefully pushed Shizuru's arms down; with her right, she reached into an open, rumpled bag that had been sitting at arms reach, curled her fingers around the contents and flung it at the older woman. "I said no!" It wasn't until she heard the older woman shriek in surprise and her green eyes opened that she fully realized what she had done.

Shizuru stood there, examining her clothes. She was blotched with white, the spray of flour that Natsuki launched at her clinging to the soft cotton fibers of her leisure-attire. The younger girl was in luck, she supposed, that the older woman wasn't wearing one of her finer outfits. Still, Natsuki stood there, speechless and shocked at herself – she hadn't used defensive maneuvers like that since before the Carnival, when she was dodging bullets and subduing District One agents. Her emerald eyes widened when she saw small clusters of flour splattered along the side of Shizuru's face. Guilt beginning to emanate into her stomach, she tried to speak, hands fidgeting with fingers.

"S-Sorry. Um… force of habit I think. Reflex." Natsuki explained repentantly, a hint of anxiety evident in her voice as if fearing some sort of repercussive return from older woman. Though she knew Shizuru wouldn't scold her, she felt it might be something she deserved since she knew that's how Natsuki would have reacted if it were her.

"No, I understand." Shizuru said with a light chuckle as she brushed flour out of her hair and off her shoulders. "Perhaps I should try and not be so pushy with Natsuki," she mused. After years of putting up with Shizuru's sometimes obtrusive behavior, a part of Natsuki assented with the older woman's introspection: That would be nice, yes, she thought with an inwardly-raised brow. But I don't want her to feel like she's at fault for my reaction. Feeling blame crawl through her body again, Natsuki opened her mouth offer words of reassurance when Shizuru continued, an oddly-mischievous glint sparkling in her eye. "However, I do believe that in a situation such as this," The older woman pulled a handful of flour from the bag and held it close, propping the elbow of her occupied hand on her now-crossed arm as though she possessed some desirable substance. "The phrase 'eye for an eye' should apply," she smirked devilishly.

Eh? Natsuki looked at her, nonplussed. "B-But it was an accident – Like I said, a reflex! And besides, you already got flour on me, remember?" she defended as she indicated the faded hand-print shaped exhibit with a tersely-pointed finger.

"Ara, yes. But as it would seem," a look of confidence played on her amused features as she waved a hand over her flour-doused state, "it's not enough." With that, Natsuki's eyes widened as Shizuru pulled her hand back and projected flour in the younger girl's direction.

Natsuki's reflexes operated in her favor this time as, with a twist of her body, she evaded the spray. Proud of herself, she turned to give Shizuru a self-satisfied grin only to be blinded by a second cloud of white. She quickly closed her eyes and growled as she felt cool powder drape her face. She made sure to wipe her face with her hand before opening her eyes and inspecting the damage done to her clothes: splotches and runnels speckled her green sweater while the excess cascaded onto her jeans - she felt as though she had become a human representation of abstract art with her body as the canvas.

Smiling, Shizuru gave a nod of approval. "Now, we are equal," she proclaimed as she dusted her hands, letting the particles fall where they may since the floor was already splattered with flour.

Natsuki glared at her. Equal? She'd admit that now they looked identical – like two women who survived a culinary explosion (and the furthest they had gotten was opening a bag of flour). And sure, she'd accept Shizuru's punishment as viable for what she did; even though it was an accident, she thought with an indignant roll of her eyes. But did Shizuru expect the younger girl to just pardon her for her earlier crime simply because it's who she is: unabashed and unapologetic?

Natsuki exhaled, trying tempestuously to blow out the grainy particles that escaped into her nose. If she wants 'eye for an eye', As the scene replayed in her head, her hand balled into a fist – not out of resentment, but to fight the blush that began to creep onto her face at her decided resolution. She knew some people may think that what she was about to do would end up indulging Shizuru more than herself, but Natsuki knew better. At least, she had a theory – one that she had only recently considered and hadn't had the opportunity (or nerve) to test until now. As if to bolster her resolve for justice, she silently growled and plunged her hand into the abused bag of flour.

Shizuru regarded the younger girl curiously, a playful smirk pulling at her lips. "Now Natsuki, you mustn't," she halted her words when she saw the younger girl remove her hand from the bag. She wasn't clutching any powder, but letting it fall between her fingers till only a small mound was held, like a miniature dune. Uncompromisingly-strong emerald eyes turned to her; she unconsciously stiffened in anticipation. What was she going to do? Stalking up with powdered hand raised, Natsuki watched crimson eyes shut as the taller girl braced herself for a counterstroke. Refusing to swallow her pride, Natsuki, with averted eyes, knit brows, grit teeth and a furious blush, committed her act of retribution: she pressed her hand flush against Shizuru's full breast. Natsuki's blush deepened when Shizuru released a tight, shallow gasp.

"There. Now we are equal," the shorter girl asserted adamantly, trying to ignore her speeding heart. Assembling a bit of courage, her green eyes rose to the taller girl's. Natsuki's cheeks pinked further as she watched the crimson eyes open and meet her emerald ones. There was something about Shizuru's visage that seemed different then - something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. The older woman held a stunned yet somehow wistful expression; a pink blush colored her cheeks like it had been airbrushed on her face. Natsuki had never seen a look like that (as far as she could recall) from the older girl before and it left her oddly curious. However, she wasn't given long to calculate the taller girl's countenance before the crimson eyes shifted, adopting a devilishly-playful air.

"Indeed." The older woman breathed, "However, Natsuki must learn to control herself," she asserted righteously.

Thrown, Natsuki could only stare at the other woman before her eyes became irate. Her face turned vermillion, appearing as though she were about to combust. She threw up her hands, "That's it!" Intent on storming out with what little dignity she had left, she turned on her heel, took three steps, and slipped. (While Natsuki could hold her footing on ice any day, she didn't count on flour being a slippery agent under her converse shoes.)

Her feet flew in front of her as she watched herself fall in what felt like slow-motion. She barely acknowledged the arms that came from behind her, catching and encircling her with ethereal grace. Where she expected a tile floor to make impact, she felt flesh. Even after her descent had come to a stop, it took Natsuki a few seconds to get her bearings.

Within those few seconds, she became acutely aware of her situation – her utter loss of pride; of soft, deceptively-strong arms enveloping her waist; of an ample-sized chest pressing into her back; of shapely thighs on either side of her hips; of tawny hair tickling her neck; of warm breath caressing the side of her face. Her heart felt like it was hammering against her breastbone. She stumbled for words as she worked up the will to pry herself from Shizuru's tender grasp.

"This is the second time today I've come to Natsuki's aid." The older woman murmured with playful self-gratification. Natsuki felt Shizuru turn her head, the skin of her face scarcely brushing the cobalt-haired girl's ear. "Is Natsuki alright?" came the deep, intimate voice, causing a silent, involuntary gasp from the shorter girl.

Agitated at her inability to control her own body, Natsuki knit her brows and sharply turned her head indignantly to the other woman. "I'M-" Where Natsuki expected to see crimson eyes, she found pink lips, lip gloss highlighting their features with sublime effort. "… fine." She almost droned, entranced despite herself. She watched the lips curl upward.

"Good. I'm glad." Emerald eyes continued to watch the lips move, mesmerized by their form. Then, as if a brick collided with her head, reality struck Natsuki's senses. The younger girl launched herself from Shizuru's embrace; her words fumbling as she hurriedly went to gather her things, refusing to acknowledge her flummoxed state.

"I-I've gotta, uh, I've got school tomorrow, a-as you know, so I better, um, better get home." The cobalt-haired girl said as she shoved her books and papers brusquely into her book bag. "Thanks for your, um, your help," she threw her bag over her shoulder, finally bringing herself to look at Shizuru, who regarded her perplexedly.

"Certainly." The other woman answered casual geniality, choosing not to question Natsuki's odd behavior – much to the younger girl's relief. She gave Natsuki an amiable smile. "You can always ask me for help."

Shizuru's compassionate lilt and encouraging gaze made Natsuki's tensed muscles slowly loosen. Relaxing, Natsuki sighed as her eyes drifted sheepishly around the room, intermittently meeting Shizuru's red orbs. "Thanks. I'll uh, I'll do that." Shizuru would likely be the only one to hear the resigned appreciation hidden in Natsuki's words.

Before the younger turned for her shoes, a thought occurred to her: "Um, are you planning on using the rest of those anchovies?"

"Likely not; why do you ask?"

"Could you give me them? Oh, and a plate?" she asked casually, dropping her bag to lean on the island counter. At Shizuru's incredulous look, she continued, "It's not for me!" Natsuki watched as the older woman produced the anchovies and a small plate. The younger girl took the can and dumped the small fish onto the clean, white plate. "You have a stray; maybe he'll want them," she exclaimed in response to Shizuru's quizzical look while she walked out to the balcony and set the plate on the table set.

Shizuru smiled, somewhat touched by the other girl's thoughtfulness. "That's sweet of you. But we're rather high; are you certain it will make it up here?"

"I'm sure it'll find a way," she said with an air of confidence as she closed the sliding door. She grabbed her bag, her straying eyes returning to the dusted state of the kitchen. "Sorry about the mess." Natsuki muttered, the sight of the kitchen once again making her self-conscious for her behavior earlier.

"It's alright. I'll take care of it, since Natsuki did the dishes." The older woman said cordially.

Though the other girl didn't see it, Natsuki gave a small, appreciative smile as she turned to the door. "Thanks. See you Friday."

Shizuru smiled. "Yes. See you," she watched as the younger girl met her eyes with a departing smile and exited the apartment. The older woman let out a breath as her eyes scanned the state of her kitchen again. "Oh my," she gave a gentle laugh, humored. The clumps of white sent her eyes to her shirt. She pulled the hem of her shirt outward to get a better look. She felt herself pink again when her crimson eyes caught a white handprint clutching her breast, nearly camouflaged amidst the other white clusters on her clothes. How bold she's become, she thought, pensive. The tawny-haired girl wasn't given much time to think over the events when a muffled clatter hit her ears. She looked to her balcony, and grinned. Wine-red eyes watched the black and white-spotted cat inspect its treasure of fish, sniffing hungrily. A breath of laughter escaped her nose as she, pleased, observed the cat a second longer before heading to the broom closet.

Natsuki threw her book bag into the passenger seat as she slid herself into the drivers' seat. She pulled her door shut with more force than necessary (as she tended to), and moved to place her key in the ignition. She was distracted, however, by the white flake that floated down by the corner of her eye and onto her leather armrest. An emerald eye glared suspiciously at the azure hair falling around her face before snatching a tendril in her hand and examining the blue strands. As she feared, white grains speckled her hair.

"Guuhhh!" Natsuki growled as she violently ruffled the hair at her scalp, trying to shake out as many flakes of flour as she could. Her eyes watched with distain as the freed flakes fluttered out of her hair and onto her passenger seat and armrest. She examined the specks of white against the deep gray leather. She didn't know why, but the longer she looked, the more amused she became at the absurdity of the night's events. She chuckled despite herself as everything leading up to having flour chucked at her replayed itself in her head. Lost in the thought, she unconsciously crossed her arms and winced as searing pain blossomed in her arm, reminding her of her self-inflicted injury.

She uncrossed her arms and inspected her forearm. The slit of inflamed flesh still looked raw but appeared to be scabbing over. It surprised her how little it burned against the cool air compared to other burns she endured. The expression on Shizuru's face when she held her wrist then surfaced in her mind; her thoughts lingered on the older woman's features, uncertain of how to legitimize the various emotions that reassumed their trek through her mind at the memory. She felt guilty and saddened, yet thankful, happy and warm.

Then, as if subconsciously solicited to displace a moment of confusion, a thought struck Natsuki as another memory amalgamated itself into her mind's eye: The look on Shizuru's face when she touched her breast; the dreamy blush; the wonder-struck expression; the moment of speechlessness…

Wait. Did I do it? She wondered to herself, suddenly energized. Was my theory right? Did I turn the tables on her? Emerald eyes shifted back and forth contemplatively, searching the features existing only in her head.

Natsuki hypothesized that, if she tried to meet the older woman's coquettish actions and playful bluffs when she didn't expect them, Shizuru would finally have nothing to feed off of when it came to Natsuki's predictable behavior. And, if she were correct, Natsuki would be given the best reward: a moment of silence - where Shizuru, caught off-guard, would be left without words and, therefore, no witty return with which to corner a blushing Natsuki. Sure, it may seem like a trivial thing in which to put so much effort. But Natsuki, growing tired of always being trapped by the older woman's amorous wit, had to find an out of some kind to offer just a second of reprieve and self-satisfaction. And, the best way to do this, it seemed, was to beat Shizuru at her own game.

Though Shizuru did eventually come back with a clever, suggestive remark, Natsuki relished in the few seconds of stunned silence she received. The cerulean-haired girl wasn't sure how often or how frequently she would be able to conjure up enough courage to parry Shizuru's self-assured sense of humor; but, if it meant Shizuru's eventual resignation from her childish habits, then from now on, she was going to try.

"Take that, Shizuru," she mumbled as she turned the key, oddly proud of herself for having touched her best friend's breast. As the engine roared to wakefulness, another image welcomed itself into her mind: Shizuru's mouth, only an inch away from her own, and only a millimeter from her skin. The glimmer of light that rolled across her lips as she spoke. Instead of drumming inside her chest, her heart did something strange: It felt as if it was stretching, growing. It almost hurt.

Natsuki blinked and shook her head, the sensation fading as she diverted her attention to her gear shift. That was weird, she thought, shifting from Park to Reverse. Deciding to think nothing of it, she shifted again once pulled out of her parking space and drove home.

Later:

"Uggh, come on!" Natsuki exclaimed, trying to wash her now coagulated, batter-like hair under the shower facet. She wasn't able to get all the flour out, it seemed…

* Chushingura – Japanese title for Forty-Seven Ronin.