06:59
The room seemed smaller at the moment, and, contrary to popular belief, having others in the room made the dimensions seem all the more extravagant. The air was stagnant after being left vacant from the previous night and seemed cold, piercing, and uncomfortable. The wooden table was devoid of papers in the early morning, as expected, having been cleared after a certain secretary tidied the room.
Manicured fingers traced the grooves in the polished wood, leaving behind a mark where the condensation had been disturbed.
Everything was quiet, but not the usual, comforting silence. No, this was not the silence that one finds peace and relief in. This was the silence that one hears out on the open sea before a swell: eerie and endless.
07:00
The digital clock changed. The stage was set for an entrance. The audience of one was now waiting, expecting.
Those oak doors should creak at any moment, breaking the silent seal, signifying the start of the scene.
If time could be heard, the way the seconds passed in the silence would be the sound. There was a tick at the end of each second, each longer than the last and every moment louder.
They should have opened the doors.
My, my, playing with fate today, my favorite fish?
The doors remained still. Where was she?
07:01
For many, a matter of minutes would seem too quick and insipid to cling to. But in just 120 seconds, a conflict was formed.
That damned silence, it hadn’t shifted to the ideal quiet.
Furthermore, the very solution to that problem was late, no, absent. The President of Hyakkaou Private Academy sat and waited for no one, especially in her own ocean. Anyone who has the gall to test those waters would surely drown beneath crashing waves.
Though the person she expected this the least from was her beloved secretary.
In the three years since Sayaka had pledged her allegiance, she had never once been late, let alone a no-show.
07:06
Kirari knew better than to believe the clock was wrong; that would indicate someone wasn’t doing their job and that was not a possibility for the student council. She blinked a moment too long, inhaling deeply as an emotion she soon recognized snaked its way in.
Curiosity creeped as icy eyes sparkled.
The feeling short lived as the doors budged, groaning in the broken silence. It was a brash, quick motion.
“—and then the look in his eyes, ha! Absolutely pitiful.”
Midari practically fell into the room, weight shifted from leaning on the door. She had her tongue hanging, eagerly waiting for Runa’s response who followed her in.
The slouching woman met the eyes of Kirari, looked left, first with her eye, then with her whole head.
“So,” she snickered, “what happened to your girl? Running late or something?” Midari grinned like a Jester about to insult the king.
Kirari held her expression, aware of Midari’s scheme, but never complicit.
“I can’t imagine the punishment she’s gonna face for this,” she licked her lips, “What are you gonna do about it, Prez?”
“Oh!” a voice chimed. “Got a note right here.” Kirari needed no help handling the half-blind woman, but Runa’s contribution was not at all unwelcome. “I think it’s for you.” Runa practically hopped over to where Kirari sat.
“Hehe, sorry. Almost forgot to give it earlier. Midari’s story was just so...” Runa looked for a word to finish her excuse with a childish grin. “Wild”
The letter was closed with a red seal and otherwise blank with the address to the student council. The president hooked a finger under the flap and tore slowly. The other two council members awaited with smirks and wide eyes as their president skimmed the page.
To whom it may concern,
Sayaka Igarashi will be unable to attend class on this day. She has been deemed too ill to leave home. She is relieved of all duties for the day. If there are any questions, they may be forwarded to my office address, attached to this letter. This is for the safety of the student and academy.
Sincerely,
Doctor Ito
The paper was folded back the way it was opened and placed over the ripped envelope. Kirari brought up a hand under her chin and clicked her tongue. What a shame. Just what did you get yourself into, little fish?
“Hm, how unfortunate.”
Midari and Runa shared a brief glance, waiting for an explanation.
“Well?” The one-eyed woman slumped over.
Silver locks spilled over mischievous eyes. “Well, what?”
“Well what did it say?!” Midari gritted, obviously impatient.
“It seems we will be short-staffed today.” Was all Kirari offered, to which the other woman huffed at.
“That’s code for Sayaka’s not coming,” the sound of a wrapper being pulled off was heard before a snarky giggle, “Hope she’s alright, hehe.”
“Well, shit,” Midari, having already lost the interest to keep prodding, rolled an eye and hopped into a chair.“Today’s gonna be fun.”
09:32
Class was not what Kirari would define as “fun,” though it kept her attention from the reality of her sick secretary. In fact, up until this point, nothing seemed too out of the ordinary.
That was until Kirari stepped in front of the council room.
Students passed behind her, leaving their classes and going to their next destination. She was all too aware of the eyes on her as the realization hit: no one was there to open the door for her. It was a small gesture when Sayaka did it in between classes, and although Kirari typically unlocked the council room door, she never entered it under the watchful eyes of other students.
The bodies behind her were schools of fish, her fish, swimming frantically through a coral reef. At any break in formation, a predator could easily snatch one. She refused to descend so low as to appear as one of them. To even show a drizzle of relatability to these creatures was enough to expose her underbelly.
So she stood, arms crossed and waiting for some low-life to open the door.
“Are you having some kind of staring contest with the door?”
Mary Saotome.
And her sister.
You two have been spending an awful lot of time together. Ririka and Mary had been together, but in more recent times seem to be attached at the hip.
“Ah, Mary, don’t you have impeccable timing.” Icy eyes motioned to the door.
The blonde rolled her eyes and glared at the older twin. “What is she talking about this time?”
Ririka gestured to the door with a dip of her head.
“Uh, hell no. I’m not your chauffeur. Where’s your little secretary?”
Kirari grinned as Mary looked around, then back to Ririka, and sighed a string of curses that were more fit to come from a sailor.
The oak doors heaved open.
09:45
“Sayaka, I’d like Narcissus Oolong today.”
“Sayaka.”
The dreaded silence returned and realization caught up. There were no eager tapping footsteps or other accommodations. If it were anyone but the student council president, they’d feel embarrassed.
A life plan was set down and signed before the pen was clicked.
I suppose this could be an interesting challenge.
When Kirari stood, it was usually akin to a ruler stepping off their throne. However, with no one to witness, it seemed much more like any other plebeian standing. If a tree fell in the forest and not a soul was around, did it make a sound?
Kirari knew how to make a numerous amount of teas, that was a given. She could recite recipes in a deep slumber. Had she ever made her own tea though?
That was an entirely different question.
09:50
The kettle was placed perfectly parallel to the wall, accompanied by porcelain teacups. Beside the table sat an organized array of tea leaves in containers. All in alphabetical order.
The president briefly recalled Sayaka’s early days as a new hire, when the girl asked if she could clean the cupboard. She had then asked if Kirari preferred the teas to be organized by color, age, rarity, or name. The memory brought a wicked smile to the president’s lips.
Oh, how obedient you’ve always been.
Due to Sayaka’s endeavors, Kirari was instantaneously able to find the desired leaves.
Entering the kitchen-like area beside the council room, Kirari realized just how little she was accustomed to the space. The ceiling was much lower, and the room only seemed to occupy a stove, a counter, and a sink. The president was an alien to this space; despite being the tea fanatic she was, she had never once stepped foot in said room.
How difficult can it be to boil water?
She set the kettle in the sink, clicking the filter around the nozzle on and began to fill the container. The handle was pushed all the way forward and water cascaded from the faucet at an extremely high pressure, hitting the kettle, and finally splashing the president.
The usually thought-to-be tyrant gasped as drips of water tainted her blazer, dampening the collar and sleeves. In a moment of genuine shock, Kirari froze. The water continued to pour out of the facet. It was an otherwise comical sight if any council member were to walk in.
Finally regaining her composure, Kirari shook her hands and gently removed her blazer, subconsciously knowing she would need it to be dry cleaned immediately after school. Folding up her sleeves a bit, she turned off the water and put the lid on the kettle.
All that was left was to boil the water. Kirari chuckled to herself. Simple enough.
A loose hand was wrapped around the handle of the kettle, lightly tugging but to no avail. Kirari pulled a bit harder to pick up the darned thing. It weighed just a tad more than expected.
Uncharacteristically, the president heaved the kettle from the sink and nearly fell at the weight of it. She uncontrollably slouched to the stove, quickly dropping it.
Probably a tad too much water.
Nonetheless, Kirari shook her head and looked to start the stove. She just needed to heat the water to a boil and infuse the leaves. Child’s play, really.
She turned the knob on the stove.
A tick set off, but otherwise, nothing happened.
A platinum eyebrow raised as confusion took over once again. It was a rare emotion for Kirari to be so puzzled at something so simple. She was no Sayaka when it came to solving problems, but to experience such a moment of flabbergastation was not a common occurrence.
Kirari stared at the knob, almost as if to threaten by habit. Alas, an inanimate object would not comply like the hundreds of fish in her aquarium.
Testing it, she stuck a nail under the crease to turn it back up, though in the process was met with an additional unfortunate fate. Said nail got caught as the knob fell flat against the stove surface, catching the edge and ripping it. The usually collected President experienced a brief moment of increasing frustration as she winced and pulled her finger free to examine the damage.
If Sayaka were here, her nail would be examined and fixed already.
Come to think of it, if Sayaka were here, this never would have happened in the first place.
But Sayaka was not here, and little was to be done about that. So Kirari was met with two options: finish making this cursed tea or continue her paperwork, miserable.
The first was the lesser of two evils to the academy’s ruler.
So continue she did. On the brighter side, the loss of her manicure did not go in vain as the burner on the stove was flickering on full force. Lose the battle but win the war.
The flame was kept at full blast; it only made sense that the temperature be high for boiling, right?
With the kettle set, the time in between waiting for the water to boil could be used for warming the infuser mug. Though the president didn’t immediately conclude how this would be done. The microwave was probably her best bet at this point, considering steam had already begun to rise from the water. Picking up the mug and infuser, Kirari opened the door to the machine. Examining the buttons, she decided a minute would be sufficient. The minute was then spent examining the horrors presented on her now broken nail.
The examination was short-lived though, as sparks crackled inside the microwave and static was heard. Kirari was quick to swing open the door to prevent escalation into something truly bombastic.
The microwave sang a series of high-pitched notes before settling on a series of evenly-spaced monotonous notes, seemingly mocking the president’s lack of knowledge on the instrument. That would most certainly be the first.
The fiasco was not yet finished, as the lid of the kettle began to shake. Like the strike of an eel, Kirari expertly switched off the stove. It would be one of the first times in her life that something began to scratch at the surface of being overwhelming, most certainly one of the first times she didn’t understand something so deeply. But Kirari was adept: the lighting bolts of Thor couldn’t ruffle her, let alone a measly mechanical device.
At last, it was time to infuse the leaves. The dark, tightly coiled leaves of the oolong were packed delicately in the container Kirari had moved to the counter. This would be a cake walk in comparison to the circus that just occurred. Kirari herself was not shaken by the mistakes; why should she ever need to touch a microwave in the first place? Not knowing how to perform a peasant job was not an unbecoming trait, she decided.
Though, this is what Sayaka does every day, without flaw.
Kirari was quick to brush away the implications of what her own actions implied, focusing instead on placing the leaves inside the infuser, followed carefully by the pouring of scalding water. Upon lifting, the kettle was significantly lighter from much more water evaporating than anticipated. Kirari was fortunate she had not converted all the filtered liquid into a cloud.
With the boiled water in the mug, she finally placed the infuser in the mug to steep. She noted the time to allow the proper brewing time to commence and began to return to her chair.
“What” a wheezing voice choked out, clearly stifling a laughing fit, “The hell was that.”
Icy blue met violet eyes for the second time that day and the voice’s owner finally doubled over and cackled. Beside her, Yumemi cupped her mouth, at least attempting to withhold her laughter in respect for the president.
“President, is that actually you? I’m starting to think this,” Midari gestured to the entire kitchen area and then waved a hand at Kirari, “Is an imposter.” She seemed to allude to Ririka and her switching places, but Kirari was sure the one-eyed woman would have no way of knowing about her twin.
Yumemi nodded, a quiet giggle betraying her as Midari continued. “Have you never seen a microwave in your life? I thought you were trying to bomb this place!”
Midari kept prodding at Kirari’s tea-making attempt. Not once did she react to Midari’s attempt to poke the wasp’s nest. “Not that I’d complain.”
“Did you collect the debt I sent you to pick up?” The corners of Kirari’s lips rose. “Or were you as unable as I expected?”
Midari wiped a tear from her eye, straightening up and tossing an envelope from her back pocket onto the council table. “Yeah, yeah. I know you told this one to babysit me.” The dark-haired woman admitted with a hint of disappointment in her voice. Yumemi finally uncovered her mouth and gave a weak smile.
“Let’s return to where we left off yesterday on the budget then.”
10:45
The following class was as uneventful as the previous. Kirari sat with her cheek pressed against her knuckles as the teacher overanalyzed a passage from their textbook’s short story. Everything in literature was too subjective. Kirari long ago recognized that other humans infused their own agenda through their interpretation of text or any art, practically making the whole thing devoid of purpose other than to make a person reflect on their environmental upbringing. Though she also supposed that was what made it art: the way it forced a mirror in front of mankind to analyze their own social behavior through their reaction to a piece. Kirari was unique in discovering she had no reflection, or at least could alter what she saw. Rather, she was looking through a plate of glass at all the others, enraptured by their reflections. Literature class was useful for one thing: walking through the mind.
The faint taste of tea still stung her tongue, interrupting her thoughts and making Kirari purse her lips. Remembering the final product of her labor disappointed the student body president.
The tea had not been worth the trade-off. It was bland and had turned out lukewarm once Kirari had finally taken out the infuser. Not to mention, now she had less leaves from Mount Wuyi and wasn’t due a shipment for another month. The cherry on top was the mess left behind after her futile attempts that would not be cleaned until the janitors swept through. She trusted no housepet with her tea set.
Today continued to prove to be a waste.
11:37
“Please madame, I’ll give anything!”
“I’m afraid you have nothing to offer, Fido.”
Usually no student would dare to approach the president, especially not a housepet. Today seemed to be trying at Kirari’s patience, though.
“I can give my arm! My legs! I can do the surgery tomorrow! Anything!!” The housepet clung to the floor, forehead to the ground in front of the president’s feet. Bile rose in the woman’s throat as the taste of poorly made tea resurfaced.
“What use would I have with the limbs of a dog?” She would offer no more of her time, already thoroughly appalled by the nerve of such a creature. Kirari had surprised herself with how much time she had spent even looking at the pathetic boy. At the moment of his approach, Sayaka would have him neutralized, taser in hand and put back in his place among scum.
This was exhausting. And she still had half the day to go.
13:05
“—So if we were to collaborate with this producer, not only would the academy gain publicity, it could help individuals in the council.”
The meeting was rather unavailing to anything on the president’s agenda. The other members spoke briefly of futile plots to increase the reputation of the academy. The need for the academy to be even more renown was not mandatory, but was still continuously pushed because several alumni would not give up the idea of publicizing the school.
“You only want this for your own personal gain. I know you want to play the main role in his upcoming film!” Yuriko rebutted the persistent Yumemi. The two continued bickering with the occasional input from other members. Kirari stared blankly at the other members.
It was not uncommon for such arguments to occur, but the mere presence of her secretary was enough to supply entertainment. But the way things currently stood, the meeting was difficult to tolerate.
Only another class, and the day would be concluded.
15:30
The ringing of the academy bell had never been more welcomed. Kirari had never experienced such a rush to leave her precious creation. Today had felt less like a day of watching and being entertained by piranhas chasing prey in an ecosystem and more like watching a beta fish in a three-gallon fishbowl.
Gathering her things, Kirari‘s mind wandered against her will back to Sayaka. She truly hoped her secretary was making a speedy recovery. It was an odd thought to have, to be so focused on the wellness of another. The president couldn’t help the thought, though, after the ludicrous day she just experienced.
The thought transpired into another realization: Kirari had no other way to contact her right-hand gal other than mailing through the academy’s system. This provided an additional game for Kirari to play at the entry of her secretary.
She needed Sayaka back soon.
The following day
07:00
The knock at the door was far more timid than usual. It was so quiet, Kirari debated responding. Shyness was not very valued when entering the council room.
“Proceed.”
Metal hinges creaked as the large doors opened slowly. The door covered whoever was entering, though Kirari had a sneaking suspicion of who it was.
Or at least who she preferred it to be.
Dark violet hair emerged from behind the door atop a pale face. Sayaka peaked her head into the room, looking as if she had the fear of god in her soul. From afar, Kirari could tell her eyes were bagged, eyelids a bit droopy, and that her cheeks were the only part of her face with color.
“P-president?” Sayaka croaked.
Under a microscope, one might have been able to pick up the miniscule increase in pupil size in Kirari’s eyes. Her typical grin plastered on her face, Kirari beckoned her secretary.
“Sayaka.”
The younger woman fully entered the room, door shutting with a noticeably and uncomfortable thud. Very unlike you.
Eyes met and the flood gates released.
“I’m s-so sorry, president! They wouldn’t let me leave. I begged and pleaded, but they told me I was only making myself more ill. I should be better than to get sick. I was made to stay in my bed. I-I tried sneaking out even. I’m so sorry, it will never happen again.” Sayaka abruptly punctuated her string of apologies with a sneeze that doubled her over. The secretary kept her eyes glued to the floor.
“Sayaka.” Kirari repeated, demanding a reaction. The younger girl looked up.
“I wish you would have simply called or texted me, it would have helped in advance.”
“I -I don’t…“
“Oh! You must pardon me.” The corners of blue lips rose. “You don’t have my number, do you?” Kirari laughed to herself and gently shook her head.
Despite years of being Kirari’s right hand woman, it was surprising that Sayaka had never received the president’s number. She never dared to ask and Kirari was scarcely on her phone. The subject was of no importance, and thus never arose.
“Here, hand me your phone and I’ll type it in.”
Sayaka fidgeted for a moment as her phone was brought out, hesitating as she looked at the screen. She tapped on the touch screen before walking over to where her president was seated. Handing the phone over, the screen was already set to type in contact information. The older girl typed with skilled fingers and clicked the ‘edit name’ section.
“Hm, what emoji should I use beside my name?” She turned to her secretary. “What would you pick for me, Sayaka?”
Kirari couldn’t tell if the other girl was red from her recovering sickness or from being flustered, but if she had to guess it would be the latter.
“I’m n-not sure… Maybe a peach?” Sayaka gripped her wrist, “If that’s okay, of course!”
Icy eyes sparkled like glaciers from the arctic. “Always the literal one,” She hummed low. “But I do suppose that does fit part of my name.” She clicked the peach emoji, then hovered over a blue heart. “May I add this as well?” Sayaka gulped and swallowed as the additional key was added. “Perfect.”
The ‘done’ button was pressed as the new contact was created. Curiously and somewhat by instinct, Kirari clicked the home button of the phone.
“P-president!” Sayaka panicked, watching in horror as the president was exposed to the phone’s contents. Sayaka’s background was intriguing to say the least. The picture seemed to be taken from a photoshoot of the student council but was cropped and zoomed in on just Kirari. This brought a wise smile to the council president.
“You have exceptionally good taste in design, Sayaka.” Said girl was mortified, too much so to take the phone back by force, but unable to withstand the current situation.
“I apologize, I should have gotten permission for using that photo for personal use—“
“No need, here.” To offer some solace, Kirari grabbed her own phone and began to search through her images. Sayaka unintentionally kept her eyes glued to the screen, noticing some of the other photos in Kirari’s gallery as she scrolled. Many consisted of images of the president or pictures of schedules. There were some that Sayaka didn’t recognize, but assumed were from the internet, amongst the pictures, she recognized herself.
“I’ll make this photo of you my background.” Kirari lifted the device to Sayaka. “Now we’re even.” She said with a wink.
If Kirari expected an answer, she wouldn’t get one; Sayaka only sputtered and looked back at her own phone.
“Why don’t you text me, so I have your number in my phone.” It was more of a demand rather than a question.
Sayaka finally regained enough brain power to find Kirari’s contact after recognizing the peach emoji, then sent a simple text to Kirari’s phone:
> UNKNOWN NUMBER: This is Sayaka’
“Got it.” Kirari chirped, taking her time with going into the message to create a new contact.
💜 Sayaka Igarashi 💜
“There, now we never have to worry about this happening again, and…” Kirari slowly put her phone back. “We can stay in contact even outside of school hours.”
If taken out of context, Kirari’s smile would seem almost sinister. She was the Cheshire cat leading Sayaka right to the queen of hearts. Though she wasn’t planning on letting anyone cut Sayaka’s head off.
Sayaka placed her phone in her pocket, only nodding in agreement to the president’s words. She was in the dark about what Kirari would even need to contact her about if not about academy business, but she hardly seemed inclined to ask.
“Now, back to business.” Kirari’s smile returned to its normal intensity. Her papers now in hand being straightened. “I need you to fix my nail.” Sayaka quickly complied.
The comfortable silence returned as the two fell back into their accustomed routine. A tranquil aura overtook Kirari as the familiar presence of her secretary returned. Sayaka was slightly sluggish due to the minor illness she still felt, but the younger girl never once complained. If the doctor hadn’t agreed, Kirari might have sent Sayaka back home so as to not bring sickness to the academy and to prevent her secretary from getting worse. But as she stood, she still worked diligently and stood promptly as she conquered the remains of her illness. Her return was much anticipated; Kirari would have even requested it.
Never get sick again.