A/N: Here's a heavy topic. I know this has been done before, but it was something I needed to write. Please review.

Himemiya Chikane is untouchable. Beautiful. Distant. She seems to most people like a work of art in a museum. You want to reach out, feel the brush strokes and admire the beauty up close, but a velvet rope and a security guard keep you safely away. Her distance and aloofness make most people think she's cold, but I know better.

The real Chikane-chan is a warm person who will always do everything she can to make you happy. She's so incredibly selfless, and it makes you feel diminished in her presence. And certainly, she's elegant and poised. Yet she can seem so wonderfully human and close at times, and it makes you want to never leave her presence.

Everyone knows she's beautiful. Some people, like me, look washed out if they have pale skin, but Chikane-chan looks like a glowing, dark-haired angel. Every time you look at her, when she wakes up, when she is playing tennis, when she bathes; you just want to take a picture because you're sure that you'll never see an image that lovely again unless you capture it. Every line on her body is elegant and speaks of artistry and I have whole rolls of film dedicated just to pictures of her. She is tall, much taller than me, but she is more regal because of it. Her body is so feminine, yet so powerful. As I push my own weak arms against her I can feel the tense muscles, feel the power that only needs to be released.

Chikane-chan's figure is beyond perfect, it is the body of famous sculptures in the Louvre. Her neck is a swan's neck, all pale and graceful and long. Her legs are a mile high, slender yet not bony at all and her skin is smooth silk, the finest fabric only for such perfection. Her breasts are large and round and desirable, with nipples hard like pebbles that show through her yukata robes when she dons them. Her breasts are larger than mine, and I often find myself wishing I had as womanly a figure as she. I feel them now, crushing my own inadequate chest into oblivion, just as her fingers- so light and delicate when playing piano- bruise my wrists as she holds them above my head.

Everyone knows Chikane-chan, but no one knows my Chikane-chan; the one who is so gentle and caring, who holds me when I cry and always knows the right thing to say. The one who has always been my idol, the one I look to when I feel I can't go on. I know she is perfect. I strive to be like her because there is no one better than my Chikane-chan. She is the one who encourages my photography, who helps me with school, who even gave me the courage to go on a date with Oogami-kun. Caring is what Chikane is. Once, instead of going to an important student council meeting, she stayed with me in the library, patiently reviewing mathematical formulas and helping me with practice. I looked up sheepishly every time I got something wrong, or didn't understand, but she would just smile, and happily explain it a different way until I understood. Her eyes never dulled in my presence, even though I was frustrated and unhelpful.

But now there is something I don't understand, and Chikane-chan is the only one who can explain it to me. Won't you explain to me Chikane-chan? Why have you let the Orochi take you? Her hands on my skin are painful, her touch is too hard. Where have you gone Chikane-chan? This person who rips apart the front of my school blouse is not my Chikane-chan. This person who invades my most personal areas is not my Chikane-chan. My voice cries out in pain, implores her to stop because this can't be my Chikane-chan. My Chikane-chan is so considerate. She doesn't hurt anyone; she would never touch me without my permission. When I didn't want her to touch my hair, she wasn't upset. She allowed for my every hesitation, my every quirk. So this person is not my Chikane-chan. I feel those fingers- those long, piano-playing fingers- reaching between my legs, cold and tangible. My lips say no, my hands reach but this person is too strong. She pokes at a place, and I think, no, that does not belong there. And it hurts, and still she keeps on pushing until something breaks. I can feel it rip, and all I can say to myself is that this is not my Chikane-chan.

I think of her for a moment, standing proud and tall, hair waving in the autumn wind. Her sapphire eyes meet mine and seem to enter my soul and all I know is that she cares, that she would never hurt me, never! I enter her warm embrace. My arms fit perfectly around her waist and she draws me close, seeming to say: you are safe here, you are calm here, and this is where you belong.

Tears leak out of my eyes as one, then two fingers, invade my most personal place. I want my Chikane-chan to save me from this person. I continue to cry stop, stop, but she doesn't listen.

At long last, the intrusion ceases and a fabric covers my body. This person drapes an arm over me, in a way no one has done before, like she possesses me, and whispers in my ear I love you, Himeko. But that is a lie because Chikane-chan loves me, not this person. Chikane-chan is the one who loves me, who did not hurt me, who will come save me. My mind screams no no no no at this person because pain is not love. Chikane-chan...my Chikane-chan. Why aren't you coming? I hear a shout from below and hope flares in my heart. It must be her, coming to save me, to pick me up and heal all my sorrows and make the pain go away. Feet run up the stairs, calling Himeko, Himeko!

Disappointment, bleak and consuming, is all I feel as I realize it's only Oogami-kun. Chikane-chan, why aren't you coming? Why are you letting Oogami-kun take your place? I can't hear what they're saying, I don't care. Tears begin to leak from my eyes again. Why did she abandon me? Chikane-chan, why did you leave me to this person, to this pain? Another person bursts into the room but I know it's not my Chikane-chan. My Chikane-chan is gone. Why... why? Why is my Chikane-chan gone?