Earth in Words Institute, Musical Arts Center
‘Warning, dangerous levels of user distress detected.’
“Hey, careful!”
Beatrice flinches as she barely sidesteps a glaring music student and their large instrument.
Coming here was a mistake. She’d hoped most of them would’ve left by now.
She hasn’t been herself lately. Throwing fits? Petty fights? Oh, yes, that hasn’t changed for as long as she can remember. But… Moping around, feeling sorry for herself? Not exactly the person Beatrice understood herself to be.
Even now, each step taken further into the corridor punctuated by chatting teenagers causes her dread to grow. Each glance thrown in her direction seems to increase her heartbeat further.
…And what if Seijuro doesn’t show up?
The mere thought nearly causes Beatrice to halt her steps.
Thoughtlessly, as she has done many times throughout the day, the petite girl ends up pressing her fingertips against her palm in a vain attempt at alleviating the persistent burning sensation caused by the princess’s touch, only to abruptly pull them back as soon as she realizes what she’s doing.
‘Warning, dangerous levels of user distress detected! Recommended immediate-’
No, no, no, no, no! She’s done it again!
Fighting to contain sudden tears from flooding, Beatrice quickly dives into a nearby restroom, freezing in momentary shock as she spots a trio of friends in front of the room’s large mirror.
The girls exchange uncertain glances among themselves, their conversation cut short midsentence by Beatrice’s sudden arrival.
“Out!”
“Let’s… go? I think she needs some time to herself…”
The girls are quick to grab their things and leave, though Beatrice’s finger continues to point toward the exit even after the last of them has crossed it.
Their sidelong looks, their endless tattling… Being disowned, being punched… The videos, everything…
A scream grows, attempting to break through the girl’s clenched teeth… Her blurred reflection in the mirror, however, sparks in Beatrice a moment of painful clarity, long enough to lead her into one of the large restroom booths before her scream is finally set free.
Three steps back, Beatrice sits over the closed toilet seat, where she glances toward her sweaty, shaking hands.
The girl in the mirror, terrified looking…
That couldn’t have been her. But then, who is she?
Drown into the silence drumming against her ear, Beatrice realizes her breath comes in short bursts, bursts of emotion she’s unable to stop or control, even as she covers her ears in a desperate yet vain attempt to escape reality.
‘Dangerous levels of emotional distress reaching critical levels! Contacting relevant authorities within close proximity-’
“She looked like she was in a bad mood… No way, right?!”
“Why do you think…”
“C’mon, she won’t mind! It’s just a picture!”
In spite of herself, Beatrice still notices each person to enter and leave, each whisper and giggled laugh.
Hyenas. Vultures, them all. How she’d like to see them suffer... But that would require energy. Energy to rise and leave the booth. Energy to walk outside and face Seijuro.
And how will she ever have the courage to rise again? To look anyone in the eyes?
She should stay, shouldn’t she? In here, locked in a restroom stall. Nobody would care. Not Melinda. Not Seijuro. Not Linda, her sister. Not her mother. And certainly, not her father. It would be a relief to all of them, to be finally hid of her.
Curse them all.
And although eventually her breathing is back to normal, and her tears have dried against her skin, Beatrice still doesn’t find the strength to move.
She’s still sitting over the closed toilet when a sudden knock on her booth’s door interrupts her self-deprecating thoughts.
“It’s busy!”
Quick to wipe her nearly dried tears, Beatrice finally straightens herself as she sniffs loudly, if only to then stare dejectedly toward her hands and boots, as unsure of the future as she was at the beginning of her panic attack.
The sudden silence looming over the restroom, however, which was filled by whispers moments prior, soon attracts Beatrice’s attention.
“Out, all of you.”
The voice outside the door is calm, nevertheless demanding, and Beatrice soon notices several hasty footsteps followed by frightened murmurs and door swings.
“And that includes you, Beatrice. Spot hiding and come out.”
Beatrice blinks.
“I’m not… I’m not hiding.”
“Then what do you call it? Temporary retreat?”
“Something… like that.”
In spite of herself, Beatrice chuckles, hating the sound yet unable to hold onto the dark emotions boiling inside of her a moment ago.
“Are you going to open the door or not?”
Beatrice hesitates. She has no excuse to continue locked inside except for a crippling fear of what’s to come were she to leave.
“You know I can kick it down, right? I doubt they’d even let me pay for the damage, insist as I may.”
Releasing a small sigh, Beatrice forces her weakened legs to rise and move the small space of the stall. A simple System command causes a click to come from the door in front of her, made loud by the unusual silence in place.
“Hi there…” the petite girl murmurs, not quite meeting the other’s gaze as the door swings open to reveal them.
Seijuro’s black clothes have not changed since morning, although her sunglasses are nowhere to be seen, and her perfect skin hints at a visit to the infirmary at some point during the day.
Leaning against the edge of the stall’s entrance, the princess doesn’t exactly block the way as she stares down the smaller girl, but if her crossed arms, clouded expression, and tight lips are anything to go by, she has no intention of being nice about being stood up.
Running from the princess’s gaze, Beatrice ends up staring at their figures in the mirror, one beside another.
“How did you find me?”
“Emergency contact.”
Oh…
Seijuro’s dark eyes, Beatrice notices through the mirror, give her petite body a once-over as she walks past the princess toward the sink, though the action seems to spark little other than annoyance in them.
Beatrice is quick to splash her face with water, hopefully removing most of the evidence regarding what she is sure was a moment of weakness that won’t repeat itself… Right?
Also, she gains precious seconds of silence and running water, enough to come up with an answer to Seijuro.
“You mean they contacted you? This fast?”
“They told me I should rush... My friend could be dead, or in danger. But don’t worry… I’ve already told them you’re fine. Wouldn’t want to waste the police’s time.”
After one last splash, Beatrice raises her head, allowing her eyes to meet Seijuro’s through the mirror in front of her. “Sorry.”
“I don’t mind. Keep me as your contact.”
Beatrice scans the princess’ expression, searching for a sign of irony but finding none. Faced with what seems to be stone-cold indifference, she ends up laughing awkwardly as she carefully dries herself. “You know, it was basically an accident… I never meant to actually make you my emergency contact.”
“No, seriously, leave it. I insist.”
Beatrice flinches. Despite the lack of emotion carried by the princess’s expression and voice, she can’t help but feel as though there’s something more to her words.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into this.”
“Beatrice, you made this into my problem, remember?”
Underneath Seijuro’s piercing gaze, Beatrice struggles for several seconds to find something to say. It’s not like she wanted to have a panic attack!
“I-I don’t understand what you mean. I wanted to go; I swear! But I got here and it was like they were all watching and I just couldn’t take it anymore…”
“So, you’re saying after all these of years of desperately seeking my attention, you’re not at fault for the situation we find yourselves in? That you weren’t always adamant about becoming my responsibility?”
Beatrice opens her mouth, though nothing comes out of it, even after several seconds have gone by.
Something… Something is wrong. Seijuro isn’t…
“Answer me!” Seijuro snaps, causing Beatrice to take a reflexive step back, flinching.
“I… Of course it’s my fault! Seijuro, I don’t understand what you-”
In a swift movement, Seijuro uncrosses her arms and steps away from the booth.
A fast heartbeat, and half a step retreated, is all Beatrice manages before she suddenly finds herself in between Seijuro and the sink at her back.
Scream stuck in her throat, she absently registers the cracking of the mirror behind her, the princess's left hand against her cheek, or the widening of her own pupils.
“I was so sure I was going to find you dead in there…” the princess murmurs, “Do you have any idea, any idea…?!”
Beatrice didn’t know a person could move this fast. Far too shocked to react, she stands underneath Seijuro’s widened black eyes as if frozen by a spell.
“It was just like my mother all over again... I was preparing myself to spot the blood… Had you not answered immediately, I don’t know what I’d have done. I don’t know if I could have handled it. I…”
Seijuro runs her gaze through Beatrice’s body as if searching for hidden wounds, her pupils larger than the petite girl has ever seen before. Then, as if suddenly having realized Beatrice’s shrunken body underneath hers, Seijuro pauses.
Beatrice, heart beathing fast, continues to lean against the sink as she stares towards a silent Seijuro for a long moment, until the princess finally breaks away her gaze, clearing her throat awkwardly.
“S-stop! I already told you, you can’t go in there!”
“Who the hell do you think you are?! It’s a damn public restroom!”
Just when Beatrice thought she could not handle the silence any longer, a pair of girls bursts into the room, one of them having obviously failed to hold the other from doing so.
Thunderstruck, they stare at the scene inside for a long moment of awkward stillness.
“Just what in…?”
“Miss Aston! I tried to stop her, but she… She wouldn’t listen…?”
Oh. Man.
As Seijuro’s gaze moves about the restroom, perhaps in search of an excuse, Beatrice barely manages to control a wicked smile from popping up. Forcing a sob, instead, she deliberately stares at Seijuro with teary eyes full of fear.
“Wai-”
“I saw nothing!”
With a squeak of her shoes against the floor, the first girl dashes through the door before Seijuro could finish her sentence, leaving her adversary as the full focus of the room’s attention, composed of Seijuro’s furious gaze, and Beatrice’s pleading one.
Pallid as a ghost, the remaining girl steps back.
“Oh, don’t you dare,” Seijuro whispers through her clenched teeth, most likely having sensed the girl’s intention, “I swear to-”
Annnnnnd… She’s gone.
Unable to contain her laughter any longer, Beatrice finally allows it to burst forth. “Did you… Did you see their faces?!” Gasping for air and words in between long spurts of slightly manic laughter, Beatrice ignores Seijuro’s less-than-amused stare. “Gods, I needed this. Do you think they’ll ever enter another restroom again?!”
Seijuro grumbles, grabbing at the bridge of her nose. “You brat. I don’t even know…”
“Oh, c’mon… Do you really think they’ll tell? On you? Their almighty sovereign?” Wiping tears of amusement, Beatrice raises her eyebrow.
“Rumors will spread! And Gods know I already have enough on my- You know what? Forget it. It’s done. And I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
“What happened to your glasses?”
“What?”
“Your sunglasses. I liked them. Did you throw them away?”
Seijuro faces Beatrice’s inquisitive gaze as if stunned by the question, causing the smaller girl to scratch her head.
“Uhm, hello?”
Gradually, understanding illuminates the princess’s expression. “My sunglasses… Of course. I must’ve forgotten them somewhere… I swear I’ll never understand… Never mind.”
“What?! It was a normal question!”
Seijuro sighs. “Forget it. You’re amazing, and don’t ever let anybody tell you otherwise.”
Far from satisfied, Beatrice pouts, though the expression lasts only a moment before she slides in the princess’s direction, meeting the other’s sidelong glance with a sly smile.
“What?”
Without answering, Beatrice hugs Seijuro, sighing internally in much the same way a satisfied cat might as she slowly pushes her own body against the princess’s.
“My lady in fashionable black…”
“Right. You’re welcome,” Seijuro murmurs as she pats Beatrice’s head awkwardly. “Now, move about two steps back.”
“Gimme a sec…”
Beatrice breathes in her friend’s smell, finding comfort (and only comfort) in her warmth.
“Bad girl…” Seijuro murmurs, although her patting continues uninterrupted for a long moment of silence, becoming more comfortable and natural.
“Seijuro, we need to talk… Just the two of us. We promised… And there’s so much to talk about… Your mom… My family… Melinda…”
“I know. It’s just… I can’t. Not yet. Not until after tomorrow, at least. Maybe not for a while still.”
Beatrice pulls back her teary eyes from Seijuro’s clothes enough to find the princess’s solemn gaze above. “Why?”
“My mother. My father. My country... My people. Do you understand?”
Slowly, carefully, Seijuro drags a lock of blond hair away from Beatrice’s face, wiping a solitary tear with her thumb.
“I think I do… Promise me you won’t let them pull you away from me?”
“You know I can promise no such thing. Yet, you ask me. Selfish brat.”
Hot cheeks, cold stomach, weak knees. Teary eyes, sweaty hands, accelerated heart - If asked, Beatrice would never find the words to describe being held by her. Still, even wordless, she stares above, seeing her own reflection in Seijuro’s dark eyes, unable to step away.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know.”
Something Beatrice does know, however, is that the distance between her lips and Seijuro’s could damn well be covered by standing on tiptoes.
Gods, what is she doing?
“We should go, lest somebody else decides it’s a good idea to pee before going home.”
“Okay…” is all Beatrice manages to murmur in between ragged breaths.
“I told Mrs. Bennett to wait for us, but I doubt she’ll wait forever.”
“Wait!”
Smiling, Beatrice intertwines her arm with Seijuro’s until she finally manages to grab onto the princess’s hand. Only then does she step back, ignoring the butterflies overflowing her stomach as she meets Seijuro’s questioning gaze.
“Hold me!”
Predictably, Seijuro rolls her eyes. “Fine. Ready now?”
Beatrice’s fluctuating thoughts take in the cracked mirror at her back, then the tiny fragments of glass over the sink, and although she is in fact still far from ready, perhaps even less ready than she was at the beginning, Beatrice nods.
“W-what about… You know…” Biting her lower lip, Beatrice hesitantly uses her free hand to point at the mess they’re leaving behind. “Should we match our stories? Is your hand alright?”
“Don’t worry about me. And forget about the mirror, I’ll talk to someone about it.”
As such, Beatrice finds herself dragging her feet toward the restroom door after Seijuro, despite the cold spot created at the bottom of her stomach upon the thought of going outside again.
A group of students jumps as the door swings open to reveal Seijuro and Beatrice. Obviously out of place as they whisper among themselves, the cluster of students merely stares in awe and shock as Seijuro walks by.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
It doesn’t escape Beatrice’s attention that the two girls who entered the restroom earlier are nowhere to be seen.
“Friends of yours?” Beatrice murmurs, once they leave the group behind.
“Something like that, I guess.”
Seijuro’s expression is rather different than her usual fake smile, carrying a suggestion of annoyance accompanied by a world of indifference. Beatrice briefly wonders if she has walked around all day like this… It’s obvious Seijuro has something serious going on related to her fight with Kuro. Beatrice almost pities all of the people who seem to have picked up on it, too afraid to approach and ask, yet too curious to leave.
“Wait! I need… I need some time to breathe!”
“Beatrice, I’ll drag you there if I have to, so I’d start thinking about what to say if I were you.”
“I liked you better when you still pretended to be nice! Give me back nice Seijuro!”
…
Minutes of ignored protests and feet dragging later, Beatrice gulps as they finally arrive before their destination, a set of double doors no different than many of the others down the corridor.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this!”
Seijuro glances at the double doors in front of which they have finally arrived at, and then at the smaller girl, pallid-looking, clinging to her arm. It is obvious Beatrice would rather eat a whole box of cockroaches than enter with her.
Convincing donzels in distress is hardly her expertise, alas, Seijuro did promise she’d help.
“Okay, fine, I guess we’re doing this. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“She’ll laugh at me,” Beatrice murmurs while averting her eyes, unusually meek, toward the ground. “And then she’ll tell everybody, and they’ll laugh at me too…! More than they already are, anyway…”
That’s it? She’s afraid of being laughed at?
“I doubt she’ll be unprofessional enough to laugh at a student trying their best.” Seijuro sighs. “Worst case scenario, she’ll tell us it’s not good enough, and you’ll stay flunked… I don’t see what you have to lose.”
“I…” Beatrice raises her head with a look of surprise. “You really don’t get it, do you? The possibility doesn’t even cross your mind…”
To Seijuro’s surprise, Beatrice suddenly releases her arm and steps away while shaking her head.
“What? Am I missing something?”
Beatrice did lose her family name recently. Is she also in danger of being expelled? Or is money the problem?
While Seijuro wonders what sort of problems the petite girl might not have told her about, said girl wipes a couple of tears then breathes deeply, meeting the princess’s stare.
“The possibility people might not like you. Or like someone else more. Or that they might forget about you… Not care for what you have to say anymore, for what your thoughts may be…” Clenching her small fists, Beatrice raises her voice until she’s nearly screaming, “The possibility that they might realize they’d probably be better off without you!”
Mostly confused, Seijuro stops herself from answering hastily to Beatrice’s outburst by averting her gaze down the empty corridor, mercifully devoid of prying eyes for once.
“Do you really think there’s no one out there who doesn’t like me?”
“They’re just jealous. It’s different,” Beatrice murmurs, “Forget it. You’re the last person I should have brought this up to, Miss Perfect.”
Once more, Seijuro keeps her temper from flaring up, forcing herself to maintain a calm, understanding tone of voice instead. “Listen, Beatrice, I get it, you’re insecure; Most people are, to some extent. Believe it or not, I didn’t choose to be born the princess of this country, nor was I given a choice in the matter subsequently. The difference is, unlike me, you do have a choice: You can walk down the corridor and hide again, or you can tell me the real reason I found you in that restroom.”
Seijuro crosses her arms, staring down the petite girl as she fidgets in place, unwilling to meet her stare.
“Okay, fine! It’s… It’s about my sister.”
The girl’s whisper is so low Seijuro takes a second to register Beatrice did indeed speak, moment at which she raises an eyebrow. “Your sister again? Linda, right? The pianist?”
“Yes! I can’t believe you even remember her name! Birds of a feather, the two of you!”
“I mean, you mentioned it this morning, and I’ve heard some of her songs before. She’s most certainly talented… Oh.”
“…Yeah.”
Seijuro suddenly stares at Beatrice under a new light, perhaps having finally understood the source of the girl’s insecurity.
“Is she the reason you chose music? To prove you’re better than her?”
For a moment, Beatrice seems ready to explode… But then her inflated red cheeks subside, as if she’s finally admitting defeat. “You know what…? She probably was. I spent my childhood watching Dad doting all over his precious little pet… At some point, I must have decided I needed to prove I was better… So much for that, Linda was the one to tell me Father disowned me a couple of days ago. Must have made her week. She might have been the one who convinced him of it, even.”
“…I’m sorry,” is all Seijuro manages to say.
“Don’t be. She won for now, and mockery is what I deserve for being so pathetic. But if they think it’s over, then they have another thing coming,” Beatrice murmurs, now smiling, “I can’t wait to see his face once I become higher ranked than her… I’ll have him beg me to attach his stupid family name to mine again, and then I’ll spit in his face!”
Linda Swain… If Seijuro remembers correctly, she should be ranked among the top ten in the nation. Singer, compositionist, and pianist, a rising star who has traveled the world multiple times to perform… Is she really the person Beatrice seems determined to surpass?
“Stop giving me that look, I know my chances are small.”
“You know you don’t have to define yourself by her, right? Technically, she isn’t even your sister anymore… Why not live life as Beatrice, rather than as Linda’s little sister?”
“Do you think I want this?! Do you think I have a choice?! I’ve lived under her shadow from the moment I was born!”
Something about Beatrice’s watery eyes stops Seijuro from probing further. Despite her bravado, the girl must know her chances of outstanding her sister in what she does best are almost nonexistent. Perhaps she was trying to attract her father’s attention, not expecting they’d ever go as far as to disown her, and now she has no choice other than to walk down the path she set for herself… Her despair is understandable, but Seijuro has no idea how to convince the prideful imp to rethink her life choices before it becomes too late.
“What?”
“For somebody who talks so big, you’re sure letting some small stuff stop you along the way,” Seijuro says as she steps aside and gives Beatrice a clear view of the door behind them, to which she points to using her thumb. “Your road to fame will hardly pave itself.”
Beatrice cringes for a moment… But then strengthens herself, breathing deeply. “You’re right. If I let something like this stop me, I’ll never accomplish anything.”
With a determinate look on her face, the petite girl walks up to the door, stopping briefly with her hand resting against it to give Seijuro a half smile. “Hey, thanks for the pep talk. I know you were this close to shoving me in there by force.”
Seijuro sighs. “Yup, coach Seijuro, that’s me…”
“No, I mean it! You didn’t have to care about somebody like me, I know I can be… I little bit much, sometimes…”
To that, the princess can’t help but raise her eyebrow. “Sometimes?”
“Okay, so maybe I’m a fucking brat a lot of the time! Still!”
“Before I met you, I didn’t know they came in miniature form too.”
Beatrice sticks out her tongue. “Wow, thanks, friend!”
And with that, the door opens to allow Beatrice to pass, which she does as if her mental breakdowns leading to this point were mere illusions Seijuro imagined. Descending two steps at a time, Beatrice casually heads down the corridor of the large auditorium-like classroom, no different than Seijuro’s father might have.
“Sorry for taking so long!”
“M-miss Aston! Beatrice! I wasn’t sure you were showing up anymore…”
At the front of the classroom, a middle-aged woman rises from her seat with an awkward smile in place, her eyes following Beatrice’s descent for a moment before snapping toward Seijuro, who follows closely behind while containing an urge to roll her eyes.
Two more teachers, another woman, and a formally dressed man, also rise from their seats in order to greet Seijuro’s arrival. While the man performs a formal half-bow, the woman merely smiles politely, nodding.
“Miss Swain. Miss Aston. Welcome, please, take a seat,” the man speaks, gesturing toward two empty chairs at the frontmost row of the empty classroom.
“Overseer Duncan,” Seijuro greets, pausing to perform a half-curtsy of her own, then nodding at each of the women respectively, “Lady Bennett, Lady Hart.”
“H-hi…”
Beatrice’s refund bravado seems to fade rapidly under the man’s firm stare, and the little devil is quick to find her seat, quieting down for once in her life.
Seijuro wants to sigh at the vision, though she contains herself.
“Shall we begin, then? Unless the ladies have something to add?” Overseer Duncan asks.
Beatrice shakes her head, then throws Seijuro a questioning glance, who shrugs. She already explained the details of the meeting to Beatrice, who should know she’s only here to watch.
“Very well. To my understanding, Miss Swain wishes to protest the decision of the board regarding her progress?”
“Y-yes! I mean… Yes?”
Again, Beatrice glances at Seijuro for reaffirmation, who simply sighs. Does this stupid idiot not realize how much she has already risked in order to set up something like this for her? What would happen if word came out she’s pulling strings for a friend?
“My friend is understandably nervous, please continue.”
Overseer Duncan nods. “Mrs. Bennett.”
“Y-yes?”
“Miss Swain was a student partaking in your class last semester, correct? And she continues to do so under your recommendation?”
Miss Bennett, the middle-aged woman who first greeted them, nods nervously, visibly avoiding her student’s gaze. “Y-yes, that’s correct. I deemed Beatrice unfit to initiate a more advanced class at her current level of performance, for reasons I’ve previously explained at t-the board meeting.”
Seijuro watches the woman’s shifty behavior with narrowed eyes, wondering how such a weak creature has managed to sneak her way into one of the most prestigious educational institutions worldwide. Personal connections? Could Beatrice’s failings be attributed to another reason other than her own inability?
Although odd and perhaps even hypocritical to think of nepotism when her own position was achieved by birth, the princess still wishes for a merit-based system for the rest of her country, and it is to her knowledge that her father wishes for the same.
“And those reasons are?” Overseer Duncan probs further.
“W-well…”
The woman is clearly hesitant to discuss the matter in the presence of Beatrice herself, perhaps out of consideration for the girl’s feelings.
“If I may?”
Surprised, Seijuro turns in time to see Beatrice rising from her chair as she stares toward the three people sitting over the slightly elevated platform in front, all of whom blink in surprise over the interruption, although each of their expressions is considerably different from one another.
“Miss Swain?” Overseer Duncan questions.
“I’ve arrived late to most of her classes… Sir. I was barely able to keep up during rehearsal, or other group activities. I never listened to anything anybody said, and I often disrupted class by fighting or arguing against other students… With all due respect, I believe I understand why Miss Bennett decided to keep me.”
Asa Duncan raises his eyebrow. “Mrs. Bennett?”
“T-thank you, Beatrice. It takes courage to admit one’s fault…” Miss Bennett murmurs as a small nervous smile parts her lips. “It is as she has said. Beatrice is one of the most problematic students I’ve had the pleasure of teaching during my career as a teacher.”
“Still, you vouched for her talent, correct? As did Miss Aston?”
“She did?” Beatrice interjects, visibly shocked, “They did?”
Mrs. Bennett clears her throat, throwing a brief glance toward Seijuro while carrying an expression that indicates the moment she dreaded might come to pass at last. “Beatrice? I believe you have something to show us?”
“Yeah, I… I do?” Beatrice murmurs, clearly still dumbfounded by Duncan’s revelation.
“The songs, you idiot,” Seijuro murmurs, faking a cough behind her closed fist.
Under Seijuro’s murderous gaze, Beatrice’s eyes are quick to widen in understanding. “M-may I?” she says, pointing towards the holographic displayer at the frontmost of the classroom, behind the small panel of teachers.
Mrs. Bennett closes her eyes briefly, then nods. “I’ve conceded permission. Go ahead.”
“W-well, these are… Some of my own compositions…”
Head lowered, Beatrice fidgets in place for a moment, until the soft notes of a violin fill the classroom’s large space, companied by a light showcasing said notes above the holographic displayer she has connected herself with.
Beyond listening to finished products, Seijuro knows little of music composition, to say the least… Though she’d be surprised if Beatrice’s songs weren’t appreciated.
After about a minute, Beatrice gestures with her hand, skipping to the next song. And then again, after another minute. Her face is red, but none of the teachers make any comments; Overseer Duncan seems to listen attentively, expression showcasing nothing, while both Mrs. Bennett and Mrs. Hart appear pleasantly surprised.
“Is that e-enough?” Beatrice asks uncertainly, after the third song.
Duncan nods. “I do believe so.”
“W-what did you think of them?” Beatrice tries as the room once more falls silent.
“Ordinarily, a request of this nature would not be considered, given a new semester has already begun… However, I’m of the mind a promising student sometimes necessitates a peculiar approach, different than what a rigid system might offer the general public. As such, I was willing to consider Miss Aston’s request, and reevaluate your position, Miss Swain.” Having leaned closer while speaking, Overseer Duncan then leans back against his chair and sighs, all while maintaining firm contact with Beatrice’s eyes. “I’m afraid, however, the school will hardly pay extra hours for unauthorized auditions.”
“Does… Does that mean I pass?”
“Not quite, unfortunately. Are you aware of the events happening tomorrow?”
“Mr. Duncan, I thought we agreed-”
Duncan raises his hand to silence Mrs. Hart, who attempts to interject the conversation with a concerned expression on her face. Is he about to suggest what Seijuro thinks he is?
“I don’t understand,” Beatrice speaks, glancing at each person’s expression.
“Tomorrow afternoon, our Institute shall host a concert evaluating musical talent, among many other... Events. Given the late announcement, preparations were quite…” Duncan hesitates, his eyes flickering toward Seijuro before moving away as if nothing happened, “Hasty, to say the least, but I was invited to act as judge, which gives us the perfect to opportunity to conduct a last-minute test.”
“You want me to perform live?!”
“I want you to prove you’re able to produce results, Miss Swain. To prepare you for a world that cares about nothing else! I don’t expect you to win, of course… Performing adequately shall suffice, in this case.”
“Define adequately! And how much of an audience-”
“Beatrice!” Seijuro warns, quickly rising from her chair and curtsying before her friend manages to ruin her chances. “We’re very thankful for the opportunity, Mr. Duncan. She won’t disappoint.”
Beatrice, terrified-looking, opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, but remains silent under Seijuro’s stern gaze as the princess grabs her hand, forcing the smaller girl to move.
“Ms. Bennett, Ms. Hart, thank you for giving Beatrice a chance.”
“T-the pleasure was ours… Careful on the way back girls!”
***
Earth In Words Institute, Underground Parking Lot
Should he attempt a connection?
Even after what happened this morning (and the fact they haven’t talked since then), Kuro doubts his princess would simply walk home… Mostly because her fans would make the trip a living hell for her.
She could have called someone from the Royal Guard, however. They’d have been more than happy to escort her home; despite how much gossip his absence might cause. As if the fiasco this morning wasn’t already bad enough for both of their reputations…
‘Mr. Kuro has received a request for a connection from Mr. Liam Aston.’
While leaning against his car and staring over the large stairs leading into the parking lot from the school, Kuro suddenly straightens himself.
‘Mr. Aston?’
Shit! He should have known the old man would have heard about what happened! He should have rehearsed some sort of excuse!
‘Kuro… How is she?’
His panic subsiding slightly, Kuro allows himself a sigh while leaning back against the car once more, although his heart still beats somewhat faster than normal.
‘I’m afraid she took it harshly, Sir. Her hopes were high… And I think this was the first time she allowed herself to have some in a very long while.’
‘I… I see. I pondered much on how to break her the news, but I knew she would stop listening after the word “game”… I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the whole history. I acted cowardly.’
Kuro fidgets in place awkwardly while scratching his own neck.
‘I heard you two ended up having a fight?’
‘Nothing I couldn’t handle, Sir.’
‘Don’t worry, I know my daughter is far from being some harmless flower who isn’t capable of defending herself… I assume she left you no choice?’
Kuro, again, as he has done many times throughout the day, wonders if he should have allowed himself to be the one with a black eye instead. In truth, he wasn’t able to simply contain himself against a skilled opponent of Seijuro’s caliber; The princess's back was against the ground before he realized it.
…Maybe he should have at least apologized.
‘Miss Aston is a prodigy, Sir. One of the best I’ve ever fought with or against. I dared not to go easy on her… But perhaps I was too harsh, given the circumstances.’
‘No, you acted in your right. As much as I love her, I’d never ask an employee to endure physical abuse from my daughter. Seijuro overstepped her boundaries, and it so happens you’re one of the few people who is able to best her in a physical confrontation.’
‘In all fairness, I believe Seijuro might have taken that into consideration when she attacked me. I doubt she truly wished to harm anyone… And, in truth, I’m afraid I might have lost her trust, Sir. You might have to find someone to replace me.’
‘I doubt it. Her mother was the one who suggested we hire you, even if the two of you ended up never meeting in the end. Seijuro would not oppose Aiko’s wishes so easily… Even if she might come to hate you for a while. And Kuro?’
‘Yes, Sir?’
‘Good job.’
Once more alone in his thoughts, Kuro allows himself a small sigh.
Without Seijuro, he has no reason to remain in Elysium. He might never see her in person again, and the thought of returning to his old job is concerning. Perhaps, he might find a job as a bodyguard instead, or a chauffeur?
…Yeah, right.
“You look ill. Like somebody shoved an insect down your throat.”
Atop the staircase, Seijuro raises her eyebrow as she starts heading down, her steps as graceful as they’ve ever been. It does not escape Kuro’s attention that the sunglasses she wore this morning are nowhere to be seen, nor is the wound resulting from their fight.
Their eyes meet briefly, but Seijuro quickly averts her gaze and walks toward the car’s back door in the lingering silence caused by Kuro’s absence of a response.
For a moment still after the princess has entered, Kuro remains in place, pondering what to say during the minutes of their drive home, if anything at all. He already decided to apologize, and that his job is more important than his pride, but something kept him from speaking earlier, and it still does so now.
His chest feels heavy, and his body unusually stiff. It is clear that, strange as the idea may be for somebody like him, he is afraid of a teenager’s reaction to his words.
As Kuro ponders, however, the car’s window slides down. “You coming or what?”
…
“Where to, M’lady?”
Seijuro shudders. “You ever call me that again, and I’ll ask my dad for your dick on a plate... Or better yet, I’ll do it myself.”
From the front seat, the smallest smile crosses Kuro’s expression as he fastens his seatbelt, breaking his dark expression for a brief moment.
“Of course… My body is yours to command, Princess.”
“Drop it, please. The day was far too long for this.”
To Seijuro’s relief, that gets a chuckle out of him, and they’re soon driving out of the underground parking lot.
“The apartment then?”
“Yeah… Thanks.”
She should visit her mother. She knows damn well she should. But Seijuro doesn’t think she’ll be able to handle being there again so soon, especially now, when she knows there’ll be no miraculous cure or time-bending machine to bring everything back to how it used to be.
Staring at the people walking outside as the car drives by, Seijuro wonders how many of them still remember her mother, the foreign princess who married their king so many years ago. Her mother was loved, and recognized by the public… Before the accident. What now? Does her memory still linger? Do they care she’s somewhere, tied to a hospital bed for the rest of her “life”?
“I’m sorry.”
“What?”
Surprised by Kuro’s words, Seijuro turns to find his eyes in the rearview mirror.
“I’m sorry about this morning. I should’ve kept better control of the situation, it’s my job.”
Seijuro sighs. “At least it wasn’t my nose. And no, as much as you like to pretend otherwise, babysitting me is not your job.”
“…Still, I’m sorry.”
“You’ve done worse to me before, remember?”
“That was different. Listen, I-”
“Stop. If you’re going to put me through your whining, then just punch me again instead, it’ll hurt less.”
“…Said the First Princess of her country.”
In a fit, Seijuro kicks the parting in between their seats. “Shut up, I didn’t ask for this shit!”
“You make me wish I hadn’t quit smoking…”
“If you really want, I can ask my dad to get you something. You could teach me how to do it properly.”
“How do you even… Never mind, perish the thought. Liam would kill us both for even suggesting it.”
“Liam?! How come you always call me by my stupid title?!”
Kuro shrugs, which Seijuro barely spots from the back seat. She’d bet most of her heritage his usual smirk is now firmly in place.
“I like you too, dumbass... Damn it!”
“What?” Kuro questions with a glance over his shoulder which confirms Seijuro’s suspicions about his lips.
“‘What?!’, he asks… Next time, I swear by every damn God out there I’ll kick your ass and wipe that smirk off your face.”
“I see somebody is upset she lost, as per usual.”
“You knocked me out way too damn fast!”
“It wasn’t as easy as you’re making it sound. Otherwise, I’d have grabbed you instead of throwing a punch.”
“I couldn’t even touch you,” Seijuro scoffs, “It was over in a second.”
“So… I’m not fired?”
Surprised, Seijuro raises her head to find Kuro’s unusually nervous gaze locked on her through the rearview mirror again.
Fired? Where did that come from? Does he not know he’s one of the few things that kept her going these past years?
Life without Kuro?
For a moment, Seijuro has her thoughts paralyzed, unable to imagine where to even start.
“Seijuro?” Kuro murmurs, visibly worried now.
Instead of answering, however, Seijuro finds herself, once more, watching the flow of people rapidly passing by outside.
“Drive,” she orders absently, “I need to think.”
…
Fuck! What now?! Was it something he said?!
Kuro clenches his teeth as he glances at the princess’s distant expression; Should he stop the car and demand some sort of reasonable answer?
Unfortunately, there’s no way he could bring himself to be so childish…
…
“We’re here.”
Kuro’s tense voice is a brief warning for the car’s somewhat abrupt stop, awakening Seijuro from her thoughts.
Indeed, her apartment’s building now stands proud beyond the passenger window, promising a night of much-deserved oblivion… If only she manages to actually fall asleep this time.
Kuro’s anger is tangible. A thick cloud of heat filling the space available.
Realizing she needs to breathe, now, Seijuro quickly opens the car door and steps outside.
What if he doesn’t follow?
The thought nearly causes Seijuro to stop, but soon the soft noise of footsteps in her wake causes her lips to quirk instead.
“Is there a problem?” Seijuro murmurs, pausing to give the furious man behind her a once over, and then the car beyond, of which both doors were left wide open.
A mix of confusion and anger, Kuro’s expression visibly contorts under her stare, but Seijuro forces herself to remain calm, despite the jolt of electricity shooting up her spine at the sight.
“Did you lose your fucking mind?” he murmurs, gaze locked on her face as if searching for some sort of explanation.
“Maybe. I did have a meeting with the devil today.”
“What?”
“And she taught me an unbeatable move.”
“She?! Seijuro, you’re not making any sense!”
Kuro’s anger seems to be rapidly replaced by concern regarding Seijuro’s mental faculties.
However, this time, his concern only brings a roll of eyes from Seijuro.
“You don’t believe? Come at me; You’ll see, I won’t lose this time,” she says while throwing her shoes aside, one after another with a swift swing of each ankle.
“Seijuro…”
“Fine. Then you’re fired.”
And just like that, Kuro’s eyes are lit ablaze with newfound anger as if he might truly punch her again.
After this morning, Seijuro harbors no delusions regarding her fighting capabilities put against Kuro’s in a real match. They were quite literally punched out of her, after all. Still, his moment of distraction is enough for a brief opening, an opening Seijuro has been eagerly waiting for.
No different than a well-oiled machine, upon impute, Seijuro’s bare feet immediately shoot off the ground, propelling forward movement much faster than an untrained person would’ve been able to react to.
Kicking or punching from a neutral position would’ve been easy; And exactly what Kuro would’ve expected. Seijuro has no doubt her limbs would’ve been blocked effortlessly much before they reached their goal, despite her carefully prepared surprise attack.
However, for once, Seijuro has no desire to kick, or punch, her bodyguard.
Instead, after a firm push against the ground, she slams her whole body against his chest, unhindered thanks to his surprise, causing Kuro to take several steps back before stabilizing.
Seijuro breathes deeply, and slowly, as Kuro’s heart beats fast against her body, still slightly out of balance while leaning against his.
During a long moment of silence, they remain still, entangled. From this position, about a dozen throwing techniques pop into Seijuro’s mind, all of which would most likely end up with her own ass on the ground, considering her opponent.
“Seijuro…?”
He’s afraid – Seijuro can almost smell the man’s panic throughout their hug. Not exactly the reaction she had hoped for, but at least he didn’t push her away immediately.
“I’m tired, Kuro,” Seijuro murmurs against his neck, “Tired of living my life. Let’s change… What do you think of becoming the princess, and I’ll be the bodyguard for a while?”
A gust of wind whistles past her neck, cold enough to cause a shiver as it drags the princess’s long hair in its wake. Heads turn; Many, many heads, both attracted by her iconic car and the unusual scene.
Her people.
Fuck them, down to the last one.
“Unbeatable, eh? You weren’t kidding… But for our next hug… Would Your Highness perhaps mind… Asking… Instead of tackling me?”
“I’ll consider it… No promises.”
At last, almost hesitantly, Kuro lightly wraps his arms around Seijuro, shielding her from some of the cold as he returns her hug. Despite his words of bravado, however, the shakiness of his voice and the accelerated beating of his heart are more than enough to denounce he still hasn’t fully recovered from the shock.
It feels nice, Seijuro realizes. Different than hugging Beatrice, and not just because of the muscles. Kuro is strong, while Beatrice was the one taking comfort in Seijuro’s strength. Is this what the imp felt like? The reason her eyes shone so brightly for that brief second?
The smaller girl stared at her lips; A hungry look which did not escape the Seijuro’s attention… And a problem for another day.
“How am I supposed to stay mad at you like this?”
“I told you.”
“A devil?”
“More of an imp, honestly.”
Kuro’s laugh travels down Seijuro’s body, its vibrations bringing a small smile to her lips.
“And besides meeting an imp who taught you how to hug, may I ask what else Your Highness experienced today?”
“Do you think the citizens would mind if I murdered a couple of them every once in a while?”
“That bad, huh?”
“Shut up and hug me.”