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Two weeks until the election winner is finalised.
Two weeks...
Sayaka Igarashi's lips are pursed together, her fingernails digging hard into just below her lower lip. It won't bleed, she knows that she isn't applying enough force for that, but the pressure of her nervousness feels all too similar to if it did.
And no clicks tick away in the halls near the student council meeting room, or around any of Hyakkaou Private Academy for that matter- she knows the reason for this, too, it being that the President prefers a silence in which she can often hear the muffled buzz of students gathered between classes with chips and cards in hand.
The violet-eyed girl knows a lot of things, particularly regarding the President. She knows exactly how she likes things to be ran, and how she doesn't, who she enjoys toying with and who she believes is worthless to bother with too much.
Despite this knowledge, her state of mind is completely nonsensical in said violet eyes. The President's muses resemble something theological, she thinks. She believes she will never be able to understand her talks of fate, nor how she is perfectly content with letting things spiral out of order; and finding it entertaining, on top of that. Everything the President desires to happen could only be described as purely illogical, nothing like how Sayaka herself would go about putting a position of such great power up for the taking. If it were up to her, she would plan everything out with meticulous care, ensuring that the President couldn't possibly lose the election to any other strong contenders.
Of course, it isn't— and so she can only follow the path of treachery the President is leading, hope deeply with every passing second that she won't lose her to this awful collection of bets putting quite literally everything she has on the line.
She is also sure of the time now, around 7:30pm, because she always keeps her watch or phone on hand. Sometimes both. One of the most draining things about student council meetings is that Ikishima-san is almost always unfashionably late, blaming it on the lack of clocks in the academy. She remembers that the same used to happen with Sumeragi-san, except she was usually hasty to apologise to the President, unlike Ikishima.
The students at the academy leave at 3pm, the council at 5:30- usually, Sayaka stays for a little longer with the President (to finalise the day's business, but it's her favourite time, nonetheless)- but then she heads home.
Today, however, she couldn't stop thinking about what she'll do if the President loses the election.
How she'll cope without her.
Her worries have been keeping her in the academy's walls since she bid farewell to the President, but she's also been too worried to admit to her why she didn't at all feel like going home at the usual time of approximately 5:45pm. It is only now, later into the evening, when she finally decides to quit pacing about aimless and knock at the student council meeting room. From her somewhat vague knowledge of the President's doings alone in there, she assumes that she hasn't left yet. The secretary contemplates, for a second, hovering at the door; her feet freeze along with her mind.
('At this hour, Sayaka? Is there something important you have had to come back for? I'm not at all used to you coming back at this time.')
She imagines what the President might say, if she would somehow be expecting her, though she wouldn't even put it past her to be. It was common knowledge within the council- no, the entire academy- not to put anything past the President.
What she fears far more is imagining what she would say if she doesn't desire to listen to her. Sayaka has tried to learn from experience, to no avail; multiple times has the President brushed over her concerns as if they were nothing more than a speck of dust settled atop of an already dirty rug. Somewhere in her heart, she knows that even right now, the President's 'whatever happens, happens' mentality is too strong for her to offer any real assurance.
The student council members often remind Sayaka of the fact that she will always ('for some...strange reason', in the words of Manyuda-san) care more about the likely negative impacts of the President's fateful impulses than she herself ever could.
Additionally, she figures that they each have their own explanations as to why this is- she has, previously, heard most of the members discussing her supposedly 'constant' qualms in the council meeting room in their spare hours. The time she did, somewhat shamelessly, eavesdrop on them, they all eventually reached a unanimous conclusion that it had something to do with her 'calculating the likelihood of how negative the impacts would turn out' and becoming sick with worry over it.
With any other person or thing in mind, though she hates to admit it, they would be correct. However, here...
She's always already sick with worry over the possibility of losing the President to calculate a single thing.
You're overthinking, she nags at herself, then. Even though she lacks the fears you have...That doesn't mean she won't want to speak to you.
Sayaka feels an involuntary smile creeping up on her, the corners of her lips turning up-further time alone with the President...- but shakes it away as she knocks on the door, first quietly, then a little louder as her overthoughts drift away.
"Ah, Sayaka~ Come in."
Sayaka snaps her arms to her sides, a familiar gesture of formality, her momentary confusion as she hears her name quickening her movements. She...knows that it's me? Is she familiar with...the way I knock on the door? No, I don't think even she would have that memorised...
Still slightly bemused, but deciding not to dwell on it too much, the girl twists open the door and walks inside.
As she enters, her eyes settle on the President- she stands at the far end of the room with her back to Sayaka, just in front of the set of large glass windows which provide the soft, dark glow of the evening to the room. Only a row of dim wall-lamps are turned on, making the pale light of the moon shine through subtly, too. Sayaka had always imagined the room to appear a way similar to this late in the evening, and now she's seeing it for herself. It's kind of nice.
Just when Sayaka swivels around again to gently close the room's door, Kirari turns to her, her aquamarine gaze calm as usual. As if she can read her secretary's mind, she chuckles. "Nobody but you would return to the school so late at night to see me, Sayaka. What for, though? I'm curious."
Faced with the question actually being asked by the President, Sayaka finds herself struggling to answer, unsure how to put the strength of her worries into words. Plus, she's been at the academy the whole time, attempting to regulate those worries-
"I- I suppose it's just...With the election coming to a close, I've been worrying about your lead potentially being jeopardised, President," she says, the words flowing better than she'd expected once they're out of her mouth. "You keep getting yourself into more perilous gambles by the minute... and I'd hate for you lose big with the finish line in such clear sight...Even if does thrill you to partake in the risk."
Kirari hums in response, motioning for Sayaka to join her by the windows. Sayaka nods and heads to join her without hesitation; she would be confused, but she had long learnt to, in moments like this, simply trust in the President.
"Let me ask you something else. How often do you see the stars clearly at night?" Kirari muses, once Sayaka is by her side.
There is a pause before Sayaka figures out the answer- truthfully, she hardly ever pays attention to the night sky, having always viewed stargazing as a waste of time. Though, she thinks right now, the stars do seem to be a thing of beauty. Maybe the President's fascination with all things of this nature isn't so strange.
"About three times a week," she eventually responds, picking a figure which makes her words appear to contain an ounce of honesty.
To this, Kirari chuckles once more. "So precise. What else should I have expected from you?"
Sayaka looks over at the girl besides her, standing with such natural grace, her chin angled perfectly to accommodate her beauty- which she could detail only as, if she were to give it enough justice, as picturesque. What would it feel like to lose herself in that sheer splendour, as well as everything else which she holds dear within her President?...
"Well...Think about this. There is no telling on which nights the stars will be visible. On which nights the sky will be adorned with the dazzling luminescence of these wonders-"
Sayaka realises when Kirari is mid-sentence that her fleeting mesmerisation hadn't been taken note of. She allows relief to fill her mind- it's most likely a good thing.
"-and on which nights, the sky will be black. Blanketed by a cruel darkness." Kirari sighs solemnly, and adds, "Such a sad sight to look upon. But that's just how chance works, isn't it?"
She turns to Sayaka, and their eyes meet- Sayaka flushes, the euphoria of Kirari's gaze burning into her counteracting her usual ability to think straight.
"The latter is hardly ever truly enjoyable, but without the probability of it happening, witnessing the wondrous light of the stars wouldn't bring any excitement or joy- if it was set in stone that you would see them each and every night, you'd get dreadfully bored, wouldn't you?"
"Well...something being affirmed...I find it safe," Sayaka says, in almost a whisper, as though her words are forbidden. Either because she knows the question is technically rhetorical, or that it isn't right of her to interrupt Kirari's musing. 'Two sides of the coin which represents me', as the President would say. "That's why I value it so much. You know I'm not a gambler, President. Risks worry me, especially when those risks... involve you."
"Sayaka, darling?"
In an elegant sweep, Kirari cups the left side of Sayaka's face using one hand, her thumb holding up her chin. The dizzying scent of freshly-applied nail polish becomes prominent as Sayaka is met with the touch, and it all feels so surreal that she can't help but to flush even deeper.
A few seconds pass before Sayaka responds- the whole moment, though short-lived, was enough to send her into a near complete shutdown. "Y-yes?"
"Please, spare yourself the worry. It doesn't suit your face."
"I-I apologise." That is all she can muster, too occupied with the dreamlike sensation of Kirari now gently holding her loose strands of hair between her fingers to reply with anything coherent. Doesn't...suit my face? With the President, I can never tell, but I'm sure that's a compliment. After she called me 'darling'...
"Don't apologise."
Sayaka is acutely aware of the closeness of her face to the President's, and even the simplicity of her tone causes her eyes to lift in flustered surprise- how do those two words manage to come across so commanding, yet with caring undertones? And the tension she feels is alluring. She never wants to break from it.
"Really, I can stand seeing you stressed like this about as much as you can stand seeing me bet more than ten thousand yen on a gamble." Kirari's intonation is even softer now, and Sayaka notices her eyes travel to her own, mildly-glossed lips. Kirari smiles, and once again Sayaka considers with a fluttering heart whether or not these displays of emotions are quite the complexities she believes them to be.
It is then when Kirari releases Sayaka's face from her mellow grasp, taking a step back, and the strong weight of realism is dropped right onto Sayaka's heart. It would've shattered, she figures, if Kirari's right hand didn't outstretch just after.
"If you're not in a rush to return home, I'd like you to come with me," she invites, coupled with another of those subtle smiles which are worth a million words to Sayaka. "Only to the lounge, nowhere outside of the academy at this hour- but I'll make us some chamomile tea, along with a light chat, if you'd like that. It's the perfect method to de-stress."
Now, Sayaka would view herself as being in a rush to return home- to carry on studying and perfecting her assignments. Although...I do study routinely... She deliberates, I guess...One night can't hinder that. I'll just have to stay awake later tomorrow to catch up. In truth, the secretary thinks there is nothing in the world she wouldn't sacrifice to be able to say yes to this opportunity. Not even her most important work, that which affects her grades. The picture she is painting of even just their walk through the empty halls, side by side, no other students around to gawk in frightened admiration at her President, complete tranquility between the pair—
Her heart begins to quiver incessantly.
"I would like that," she responds, accompanied by a smile. She hopes that her expression showcases said picture. "I'd like that a lot. Thank you, President."
"The pleasure is all mine," Kirari assures, and, with another flourish, takes Sayaka's hand in hers. "You're the one who needs this, Sayaka."
Their fingers intertwine, and the younger girl's blush of a rose returns. They stroll to the door, not only side by side- as Sayaka let herself imagine- but hand in hand, too. Every last drop of the devotion she feels for Kirari rushes to her heart, and she can't for any form of reward decipher why it's happening now, maybe it's the pools of it she represses around others finally seeping out, but for once— she doesn't care. This is something she doesn't know, but for once, she's fine with that. Because her President is right there beside her, casting her occasional sideways glances, supplementary smiles slipping onto her lips of blue velvet. Everything happening whilst they continue on from the student council room, saunter through the academy in bliss. Exactly how she had depicted it with her brush of love.
"You seem composed now." Kirari breaks the silence once the pair reach the lounge, both halting at the door; her voice is warm and comforting, and despite their interaction in the council room, Sayaka finds the notion quite strange. She laughs faintly.
"A little."
"I take it you still want to stay with me?"
"...Always, President." Sayaka beams fondly, then bows her head- happiness spreads through her again at Kirari's words, her fantasies of a lifelong love returning to her.
"Good...Then let's go inside," Kirari answers, and her honeyed shift in tone as she says 'good', how she glances at Sayaka whilst solidifying the grip on her hand—
—Maybe she can read just what I mean by 'always'.