And I will gladly break it, I will gladly break my heart for you
The concept of time has always been strange to Nanamine Sakura.
It was like standing on the shore of a quiet beach, watching the aquamarine-colored waves wash over the wet sand, over and over. Any words written would be soundlessly swallowed, forgotten yet destined to forever stay the way they were before the erasure.
If you pressed your finger into the sand really hard, you could create a hole that the waves could not destroy. Nevertheless, all of it was all temporary. No matter how deep you dug, the ocean would eventually consume; The beachside was bound to stay flat. Smooth. Unchanging.
Sakura wasn't sure why the seven mysteries were created. More specifically, she didn't remember. She registered the information was old, incredibly old, washed over by the seawater many times. Sometimes, bits and pieces would come to mind like torn edges of a newspaper. It was a pity those days, Sakura couldn't bring herself to care.
All that was important was the mysteries were about to be destroyed. Chaos would surely ensue.
But that didn't matter, did it? The chaos would only be a deeper hole for the waves to fill up. A more troublesome obstacle. No obstacle could get in the way of time. One day, all would return to the blurred notion of peace.
It would be an intriguing sight, she had thought. A work of art, even.
A work of art.
And Sakura would always remember meeting her.
The first time, it was Mitsubas welcome party. The teen supernatural had settled temporarily, and Sakura knew from the way he looked at them that he wanted to stay. That would be perfectly acceptable, she supposed. She would inform him of their invitation, for him to become an official member of the broadcasting club. But of course, a proper welcoming was needed, and sincerity and genuineness were to be shown fully. Hence, she mentioned to Natsuhiko about a convivial party.
That very afternoon, she had spent her afternoon planning said event. Yes, she had no experience with parties, struggling to pick out suitable decorations and hesitant with the beverages and desserts. And then there was the possibility Tsukasa would decide to smash everything into fine pieces, simply because he felt like it.
Sakura couldn't say she hated Tsukasa, since emotions were faded and dim to her. However, she did often think that if the world had a delete button, he would be the first person she got rid of (followed by Natsuhiko, but at least he didn't have a habit of destroying her teapots.)
Fortunately, the unhinged mutant toddler decided not to throw a tantrum that day. There was no way there could be only good news with Tsukasa though.
'Mitsubaaaaa!! look what I brought you!!!!' And the tablecloth was violently ripped aside.
It was...a girl.
The space under the table was small, and the sudden movement of Tsukasa took the girl by surprise. She was currently staring at the trio in front with hands wrapped around her head. The girl's eyes shined with the dimmed emotion of surprise, fear and confusion, and Sakura recognized the hollowness that only belonged to supernaturals in those fascinating turquoise eyes. Her hair was the color of chestnut ice cream, tied loosely into braids. Notably, though her locks looked a bit messy, the ones framing her face were soft like clouds in a childhood fairytale.
Sakura searched through her broken web of memories, recovering a shard of glass. A name.
Shijima Mei. The fourth of the seven school mysteries. Her boundary was the art room around the corner on the third floor. Sakura vaguely remembered going there once, but strangely, she did not have any recollection of Shijima. Another memory lost in the ocean of dust, she supposed.
'Oh. Hi.'
A voice interrupted her contemplations. Unfortunately, more than three seconds of silence was practically impossible for the broadcasting club. This was mainly because Natsuhiko had an annoying inability to stay quiet. This time, though, the one who spoke was the pink haired teenager on the side. 'I like your shoes. Thank God. I was starting to think none of the kids in this school had acknowledgeable fashion taste.'
'Thanks...?' The girl, Shijima, blinked at Mitsuba. 'They're my favorite pair.'
'Well, Mitsuba-Chan is right. You look dope.' Natsuhiko grinned, tapping his hand on his paper plate. Both he and Mitsuba were still holding the remnants of the cake Sakura cut. 'What're you still under the table for? Come have some of these snacks. M'lady picked each of them out individually.”
‘M’lady!!’ Tsukasa had abandoned the table he was sitting on and was currently floating around the table in circles, picking up rogue party poppers and throwing them into the air. “M’lady, M’lady, M’lady!”
Sakura sighed at the mess of a scene. It was how they were, she supposed. Unstable, yet always the same. They would be the only ones in the world to be this way, ignorant of the laws of time, a boat on the shores that the waves would never wash away. Something about it was comforting.
“Need assistance?” Sakura tidied her thoughts and walked up to the brunette, Shijima, watching her eyes flicker up.
“Yes, thank you.” After a hesitant moment, Shijima grabbed onto Sakura. The latter noticed how her hands were perfectly shaped, not a single cut in sight. Like those of a porcelain doll, Sakura mused silently.
“Hey, senpai, want one of these?” Mitsuba had put down his cake and was examining the plastic candles, but he seemed to be finished as he walked up to Shijima holding a dessert with a bunny shaped chocolate on top. “It’s my welcome party after all, but since you’re here as well, it can be your welcome party too, I guess.”
“Oh. I appreciate that.” Shijima looked at the icing covered chocolate slab, then back at Sakura. “M’lady, my hand…?”
For a split second, Sakura felt herself freeze. The girl’s voice was calm, pleasant like the morning sounds of a windchime. Her dim cerulean colored eyes stared up, innocent like a child yet to be exposed to the unfortunes of the world, but worn and torn with the type of abrasion only known by those who lived through endless surfs of time.
“Apologies,” she shook her head. Getting lost in a hole of memories and thoughts was dangerous, too dangerous, and Shijima seemed to be able to make her do such thing too often, even in the short minutes they had met.
“Yoo!!” Natsuhiko’s voice sounded from behind a table. “What’s with all of you calling M’lady… M’lady? I thought that was like my THING, ya’ know?” He gestured with his left hand, repeating the motion three times as the rest of the club watched in awkward silence.
“Uh, Air-Senpai, you said that about getting in the way of Minamoto-Senpai as well, and also about being last in slot for babysitting Tsukasa, and driving us if we ever go to that supernatural school party-”
“AHEM!!!! We get it, Mitsuba-Chan.” The auburn hair colored boy took a step back, a forced smile on his face. He turned around, and whispered in a volume that he thought nobody could hear (everybody could hear, Sakura noted): “Hasn’t he only been here for about a month? How does he remember all that?”
“Ahh…I’m sorry,” Shijima pulled the conversation back onto track. “I saw two of you call her M’lady, and assumed it was a rule we were supposed to abide by here.” She looked up at Sakura once again. “What would you like for me to refer to you as?”
There was something about the way she looked at her that made Sakura feel…strange. Fuzzy. She couldn’t quite place it. “I go by Nanamine Sakura. You can call me Nanamine-senpai, or Sakura.” The feeling settled in her stomach, and for that reason, the green haired girl felt herself avoiding eye contact.
“Or honestly, anything you want. I don’t mind. You can call me M’lady too.” Sakura added after a second. She wasn’t sure why the sentence popped into her mind, but the words tumbled out like marbles from a jar. She has a short moment to recognize that this wasn’t like her—Nanamine Sakura always thought things through thoroughly before she spoke.
There was something she couldn’t quite place about the way Shijima made her feel.
Natsuhiko’s laugh brought her back to earth. He grabbed Mitsuba’s and exclaimed, quite loudly: “Yeahhh!! The runt didn’t introduce us to you at all, huh?” He shook his head, tsking to himself. “The name’s Natsuhiko, you can call me Natsuhiko-Senpai!”
The boy showed his signature cat like grin and winked at Shijima. “Don’t be afraid to ask for anything~! And this over here,” he signaled towards the supernatural on his left, “Is Mitsuba! You two are both newcomers. Feel welcome!! Both of you are officially part of us now, cool, right?”
Neither Mitsuba or Shijima spoke, but Sakura noted that the looks in their eyes didn’t resemble annoyance. That was fortunate, she thought. Hopefully, they would all get along just fine.
“Miiitsuba!! D'ya like the new friend I helped you make?” Seeing the rest of the crew done with introductions, Tsukasa floated up to his pink haired victim. He had previously been sitting on the table with a plate of brownies, and now his hands were covered with chocolate goo.
“Uhm. You kidnapped her, I don't think that counts as making a friend...”
The conversation continued, and Sakura watched the club go back to its normal functioning. As everything settled into place, she allowed herself to eye the brunette still standing next to her.
Noticing her gaze, Shijima turned around. A small smile crept onto her face.
“Sakura-Chan, I think you would look good playing violin.”