Series: Mai Hime
Rating: PG 13
Summary: episode four, lingerie theft aftermath
Ochazuke – rice with tea poured over it
Miso soup – soup made with miso bean paste, standard soup within Japanese diet
It might have only been a few moments but being under that look has a way of slowing down time until one was counting every torturous second. Aside from the immense amusement that was blatantly playing within those eyes, she could also feel it shimmering with mischievous conspiracy that always resulted in some sort of further entertainment at HER expense. It was already bad enough she had to go through that embarrassing incident and now she had to sit through another session of ridicule and scrutiny. And the more she thought about it, the more it boiled under her skin, especially when the patented smile came into play as well.
"That's it! If you want to laugh, just laugh!" exploded Natsuki, her patience finally eroded into nothing. It was useless to try as she knew she could never win in a game of endurance against the reigning student council president.
Shizuru's smile widened further, releasing the chuckle that she had been holding back for courtesy's sake. No one else could tickle this pure mirth from the bottom of her heart and rarer still that she could allow it to play casually on her face. Her only regret was that she wasn't the one in Takeda's place when it happened. What a shame.
"It's too bad you didn't make it here in time. I would have gladly lent you mine."
"Shizuru!" rebuked Natsuki, her cheeks boiling to a deeper shade of red at the suggestion. For someone who valued and practiced Japanese traditions to its essence, the things that made its way out of thatKyoto girl never failed to catch her by shock and surprise again and again.
"What else do you expect me to do?" refuted the council president, grinning, "I don't carry around an extra pair everywhere I go."
Natsuki crossed her arms and shot her glare out the window.
"I wouldn't be surprised if you did."
"Good to know that you have so much faith in me," was the quick remark that made Natsuki's jaws grind deeper together. It was infuriating, but also a part of her friend that she secretly treasured. She could have the most unfruitful scouting session outside and Shizuru would have a way to take it off her mind, and bring her back to what normality is like.
"That wasn't a compliment," growled Natsuki.
"You're so cute when you huff like that," remarked Shizuru, taking a gentle sip of green tea. No one could debate the splendor named Kuga Natsuki, a blossoming young woman whose perfect curves and proportions could lead the imagination to wild sensuality. Classic china-doll like Japanese features, framed by long silky strands of dark blue, were another capturing trait that had students around campus gawking as she passed despite her aloof attitude. But it was truly these little moments of childish honesty that made her special in Shizuru's eyes, watching those lively emerald eyes shine with life.
Another blush couldn't help but stalk its way to Natsuki's cheeks as she stole a glance at the older girl, catching those unusual red eyes flicker with delight at her reaction. They reminded her of Japanese maple leaves in autumn. And in spite of the Shizuru's heartfelt declaration of being Japanese, Natsuki couldn't but wonder whether her only friend was mix. The light chestnut hair, tall nose and stature that was uncharacteristic of local natives, were all tatter-tail signs of foreign blood. But she never directly asked of course. That would be prying and a breach of one of the rules they silently promised each other; diverging personal information only when it was critical or offered. So, unable to counter with a better comeback, Natsuki simply let her crossed arms tighten, further expressing her discontentment.
Finally deciding to spare the poor girl, Shizuru allowed her voice to carry its signature logic and Kyoto-accent. The chair squeaked as she leaned back, locking her gaze with the girl sitting on her desk to her left.
"Now, now. It's no use to brood over it," she reasoned, "How about I treat you to dinner?"
"Fine," huffed Natsuki, "But no ochazuke or miso soup."
"Because that's what we always have!" she countered. If there was one thing she had learned about during this four year acquaintance, it was Shizuru's taste in clothing (not including lingerie) and food; the only predictable part of the council president's personality.
"Alright, we'll have whatever you choose."
A smirk immediately replaced the gloating glare she was sporting just moments earlier.
"Fried chicken," said Natsuki.
"Does it have to be something fried?" sighed Shizuru, her brows dipping into a good-natured frown. There was always something about western fried food that didn't bode well with her stomach. Perhaps it was the heaviness of it, in stark comparison to Japanese food that worked entirely against her usual diet.
"You said I get to choose."
With a soft tilt of her head, she met Natsuki's victorious green emerald orbs with a rare subtle plea for sympathy. She rarely used it but she knew the other girl could never resist it for long.
It wasn't one of her top choices, but nonetheless, Shizuru gave her silent approval. The door then slid open with its usual wooden grind and two foreign intruders, eliminating the previous exchange as if it never happened while invoking a promise that'll take place at 6:30pm.
Thank you Dauthi and MK Anderson, my two wonderful beta-readers that have effectively curbed that grammar ebil-ness and other writing kinks. You two rox0r!
It was fun to write. And with all the recent angst in the series, I felt like something lighthearted to ease the tension. Anyways, hope you people liked it. I love Shizuru! She's is SOOOOOOO hawt.