In Bloom Chapter 2
Notes: Cross-posted from AO3. If people get annoyed by this, please savior “kiwi crossposts” to save your eyes. Hey, if you’re a fan of KirarixSayaka, check our discord here .
Description: Mary accepts an invitation to watch from the president, and learns far more than she ever wanted.
Pairings: KirarixSayaka, MaryxRirika
---
The mask was never really hers to begin with, she thought. Ririka had looked on it with such ugliness as a child, bitter but needy-- like a starving man forced to drink salt water at sea. The more the ocean pulled and pushed her raft, the more desperate she grew to its poison. She had no other sanctuary, no other out. Perhaps it would’ve been better to die of thirst than to die of madness.
But it was there, a second skin and more familiar a face than her own. It looked far too large on her tiny frame as a child. The holes didn’t quite fit her eyes and there were inches that it went past her chin, almost covering her neck.
She always wondered where Kirari got it, but she had been far too afraid to ask. Disguised as an offer of freedom. Now a different form of shackle.
Ririka assumed it was better than being devoured by her own twin.
--
The separation hadn’t been official technically until that day. They sat, tea set perfectly placed with a precision she had always expected from Igarashi-san. She studied her more than she would care to admit. She moved back and forth across the council room so much more like her own stage, orchestrating a performance meant only for an audience of one-- but two. Her constant presence had become familiar in the couple of years that they’d been in power, and rarely had it meant anything beyond the admiration of her dedication.
She didn’t know when it changed, but Ririka knew exactly when she noticed it. Her tea had been left untouched, all too aware of the humor in her twin’s eyes as she studied Ririka, naked without the comfort of ceramic. She was never much for green tea anyway. It felt too much like soil in her mouth-- all too thick and all too bitter.
“She’s quite remarkable, isn’t she?” Kirari had asked, always digging for more than she should.
Mary was different. All too trusting, yet carved her own path. It wasn’t righteous fury. It wasn’t anything more than a desire to have her own choices. It was a conviction she both admired and envied. She could never hope to emulate the fire in her brown eyes, the way her blonde hair shimmered in the open sun. The way her smirk widened and head raised high in certain victory. It was easier to fake someone she knew so well.
Kirari was more predictable than she’d want to admit. The gaze was waiting for something she could gain from Ririka’s words, whether that would be a new perspective, a secret, or something that would blossom into a strategy later. Her mind was simple, focused. One that just simply craved chaos behind its wake. “Runa told me everything when she came back,” she continued, undeterred by Ririka’s stillness. “It’s true Miyo and Miri underestimated her, but they haven’t met anyone outside of our family that would handle poison so nonchalantly. She kept a good face.”
“Why do you like her so much?”
She took some small pleasure in the way Kirari was taken aback by the question at first, pausing mid-sip of her tea and setting it down with a small clink. It soon gave way to a chuckle however, making whatever show a small victory for her. “Why don’t you tell me?”
A trick question, maybe? There was a reason her sister wanted them together, collaboration-- independent from her. The first thought was an evaluation. Once they won the election again, the council would need to be reorganized. It was true Mary would be a prime candidate for one of the seats, but… “She already said no before. Not under you.”
She tsked at the response, disappointed. “Who’s to say? I hope for a challenge at least.”
“That’s all?”
That smile-- it showed life in her eyes, almost natural. She missed those glimpses. “Better.”
“President, if I may?” And suddenly Igarashi-san existed. She had a good habit of that-- something Ririka could almost say came from her. She would let herself exist in the periphery, letting events take its course until she was needed, or had something to say. Not all of it was useful to her, given all things considered, but the emotional consideration in it was at least respectable.
But in that moment. In the day in which Ririka would see Kirari almost alone, she saw the smile of a person as she outstretched her hand and offered the seat beside her. Igarashi’s smile was shakier, fragile-- but there wasn’t any redness or hesitation as she gently sat herself down. Not much space either.
Something had changed. Something she hadn’t noticed before.
Igarashi-san took a deep breath, organizing her thoughts before speaking. “I’m aware it’s unlikely Inbami and Yobami-san would go against Terano’s orders at this point, but…” Ririka had known the suggestion before being given. Igarashi-san, the natural logical mind that she had. The dedicated, servitude attitude. “... I think I’m more suited to open your mail from now on.”
“Oh?” Kirari humored it as she reached across the table and took Ririka’s untouched, cool tea to offer it to Igarashi-san. Ririka hadn’t bothered to look perturbed for the sake of it. The tea was likely to go to waste at this point. “Why would I do that?” She expected the obvious answer. Answers that she had heard from Igarashi-san before. They were the same reasons that got her the taser hidden away at her hip, intimate knowledge of Kirari’s daily routine and schedule (and perhaps a bit of her own). A bit of safety, a bit of peace of mind for her own secretary and for the school. It wouldn’t do well to see the president poisoned during a crucial moment of the election.
Igarashi-san held her gaze with confidence. “It’s not worth entertaining the small games at this point, and..” she eyed the cold tea a bit warily before declining the cup herself. “I would hate for you to lose out on what you enjoy because the sisters wanted to set an unknown time limit.”
That wasn’t exactly what she had in mind.
Kirari looked to Ririka, almost taunting-- waiting for a reaction of some sort. It was out of many years of experience that she remained as placid as she could. “At least go over the invitations before rejecting them?”
“Of course!”
--
Mary still avoided her.
She didn’t think she was skipping classes, but there wasn’t any sight of blonde hair as the classes let out each day. It only made the stone weight of guilt sink deeper inside of her. She wished she could fix it.
But to be Kirari? It was all second nature to her.
--
It had only been a week before Ririka sought her twin once again. The president’s absence, at so pivotal time in the election, had been keenly felt. She paid little attention to the rumors that circulated around the president ordinarily, but this time-- this time the rumors were loud. The well of votes was running dry, and what little dreams that pets had of clawing out of their status were quickly dashed as the placements became more and more concrete.
And yet-- the votes weren’t with Terano. They weren’t with Ririka, or indeed, even the president. Without tally from the election committee, it was hard to know where exactly those votes had gone to.
Her first thought was Mary, accruing what she needed in case her and Ririka’s falling out was permanent. It was impossible to know for certain, but the fact that she had yet to run into her gambling partner inside school grounds made that very unlikely. Not when she was so purposefully looking for her. The girl either didn’t actually care to win the election, or expected to reconcile at some point. A comforting thought, but one Ririka kept with cautious optimism.
The next suspect would be Yumeko. The girl had a magnetic attraction that drew the oddest and weakest to her, allured by the idea of freedom and her previous escapades in tearing the council asunder. Even now there had been tales of her using matches as a way of letting pets earn their freedom once again. That precisely was why she was an unlikely target though. Her votes and ranking fluctuated as much as her moods did. It would not be so noticeable a difference, nor would that feeling remain so long at once.
No. This adversary was new, and for right now, unknown. The prevailing rumor was Kirari, or perhaps Igarashi-san, was gaining the votes by proxy-- planting players on her behalf while she dealt with some unknown business. Once she returned, she would then grab the votes via staged games.
But the longer the absence went, the longer people saw the truth that the rest of the top ten already knew. This wasn’t some grand play on her part, unveiling herself as the victor in some grand gesture. The president was missing. Her second in command was missing with no one left to defend it. It wasn’t hard for students to assume that this was Kirari’s resignation.
As to why the secretary was gone as well? Those rumors were at least somewhat darkly humorous. Some suggestions that she had become a recluse, that the quarantine the other day was a scene of some hideous suicide or murder by her finally snapping from the constant orders. More boring ones were that she had been disowned by her family or that her family had become destitute. Not one dared to try to connect the two disappearances, lest they risk the wrath of the president upon her return.
However, there was never anyone that Kirari didn’t know, especially one making waves like this. A clue or two could prove advantageous. There were also more pressing questions, ones that had been weighing heavily every time she came home to an empty mansion.
Her steps were quiet as she made her way up the stairs to a private, closed off section of the hospital. No doubt a personal expense on Kirari’s part. Gone was the chatter of overworked nurses and the moans and pratter of other patients. What staff that stayed at the station kept their lips sealed and eyes downward as Ririka passed them. She didn’t pay it a second thought, already used to being ignored by most anyone whenever she was away from her sister. It wouldn’t be hard to find the room. The one the nurses ignored the most, and the scent of burnt tea leaves were the main indicators.
However, she hadn’t expected to see Terano wheel out of the very room, pushed by a somewhat somber Yumi-- a rare sight to behold and mull over later. They met eyes, almost reluctantly by them both. Even Ririka found the air stale in that moment.
“I suppose even you would be curious,” Terano stated plainly.
Her fingers twitched, subconsciously looking for a mask she had forgotten. It didn’t feel right. “How is Igarashi-san?” she deflected, eyes flickering to the door behind Terano.
“Asleep, but healthy. I doubt she’ll need to stay much longer.”
“Good.”
She had eyes like Kirari’s. Sharp and never straying from their target. It dug and dug until there was nothing left. It took everything not to look away. “It seems I have to come up with a different method. Even with Igarashi gone, no one seems interested in selling votes anymore.”
The timing was odd, wasn’t it? She had thought the poisoning was a last ditch effort by the sisters to gain power over the branches, but Terano had something to gain. Whether the target had been Igarashi-san or Kirari, whether it would succeed or fail-- it would lock her biggest competitor out. Though Terano’s methods tended to have more finesse than this, Ririka wouldn’t put it past the girl to take advantage of Miyo and Miri’s recklessness. Momobamis were opportunistic in nature, with few glaring exceptions.
“Did she say anything?” Ririka asked, softer this time as not to alert anyone inside the room.
Terano sighed, “What do you think?”
Ririka wasn’t sure anymore. The answer was usually no. Usually something obtuse, a tease perhaps. Kirari rarely spoke what she meant in plain, direct gestures. It was really the biggest difference between the two. Terano’s mind was just as sharp, perhaps even more clever than her twin-- but she spared very little time for eloquence. Especially not with those that irritated her.
Her sister could’ve said something. Terano may know who it is already. If that were the case, she doubt the information would be passed along easily. She kept an air of nonchalance as she slipped past her rival to the hospital door.
“Ririka?”
Her hand paused, fingers brushing against the handle.
“I don’t know what her game plan is. But if you really are looking to stop her, meet with me later. Bring Saotome-san.”
Mary would have to talk to her again first. She was still working on that. Even then, she didn’t think she could trust that idea. It seemed too much like an invitation to open old wounds. Create new ones behind them. It was hard enough to be independent for the first time in years-- she didn’t want to spend that time forming questionable alliances. Kirari’s orders or not, she at least trusted Mary. She couldn’t say the same of Terano.
She didn’t respond, electing to instead open the door finally and peer inside the hospital room. Terano’s dark eyes bore into her back well after the door had been clicked shut behind her. The clan was familiar with dangerous games. All of them. It wouldn’t do well to dwell on offers like that. She could only figure Terano was trying to consolidate votes now that buying them was no longer an option. Introducing a new player wasn’t a bad solution to that-- one strong enough to garner so many votes so quickly.
But that was a better question for the occupants in the room. The desk was an… interesting new addition. Pure dark mahogany, one she recognized from their own personal collection at home. She had come by at some point then. Almost every inch of it’s top had been covered in various papers and junk. Empty tea cases, voting chips, life plans, and various correspondence from contacts all made an appearance somewhere on its surface. Kirari bothered with none of it, instead hunched over a laptop with brow furrowed and deep, frustrated scowl on her features.
Ririka tried not to smile at the sight. The position of secretary had been a priority position to fill when they had started for this very reason. Kirari had a long, passionate hatred for paperwork. It was nice to see that the fact still stood. Hopefully she was kind enough to not disturb the privacy curtain behind her over a signature or two.
“You can stare or you can sit down,” Kirari quipped, never moving her eyes away from the screen. The blue eyes that scanned words on white page looked strange with the screen reflecting back in the irises that mirrored her own. No trace of make-up, perhaps left forgotten in her deserted bedroom. The cleanliness was as much a ghost to her as the absence.
Ririka bowed her head sheepishly as she sank into the wooden chair across from her, noting the slight quirk of Kirari’s lips as the chair scraped across tile.
“And quiet. I just convinced her to sleep.”
“How was the visit with Terano?”
She stopped a moment, shutting the laptop lid with a click. Ririka knew she would receive little more consolation. “She isn’t a fan of burnt tea.”
“And?”
“It’s interesting. How can you be afraid of your own questions?”
“I thought you liked dancing around subjects.”
“This? This is procrastination.”
Ririka noted the hard lines of Kirari’s posture, not unlike a cornered animal, and realized that neither of them wanted to be here. Blue eyes sharpened, guarded -- as if forgetting who was it that set Ririka free in the first place. “... What are you doing?” she asked. It was her that came, her that took that first step. It might as well be her to start.
“Working.” Kirari picked up one of the many scattered life plans as if to emphasize her point. She dropped it onto her laptop with an unimpressive flap, only half-heartedly keeping the charade going. “So if you could get to the point, dear sister?”
She tried to bite down the accusation that Kirari was procrastinating too. It was easy to accuse her of hiding from her own consequences, that perhaps the election was more than she could handle, and now that her last remaining support had been put out of commission temporarily, she was keeping her head down in the hope that whatever strings she pulled in the background would save her from plummeting. It was all there, ready to burn from her throat like an inferno, the last little bit of servitude inside her ready to turn inside out. But then-- then it wilted inside at the sight of icy eyes staring back, retreating into the crevices of dark thoughts entertained in those empty nights.
Ririka looked to the privacy curtain again. “... You haven’t been sleeping here, have you?”
Kirari shook her head. “Like Sayaka could actually recover with me being here~. Imagine me cramming in that tiny bed? It’s just not practical.”
Practical was a strange word from her. “So where--”
Her ears picked up the shifting behind them, just as Kirari placed a finger to her own lips. With feather light movement, Kirari slipped from her own chair and pulled the curtain back just a moment. Then drew the curtain behind her.
Ririka averted her eyes out of courtesy, even with the curiosity burning inside her and the lack of anything she could actually see with the sheet of fabric between them. When had the dynamic changed? She tried to think of the nights spent apart-- how it seemed so little as Ririka spent her time at the main house, enacting the very desire that had been brewing deep in her twin’s heart for so long.
What had happened at that tower? Had the fall jumbled her brain, putting it back together with the pieces haphazard, broken in different ways?
She didn’t look back until her twin had taken her place back at the other side of the desk, fingers naturally reaching for a cup of cold, burnt tea. As soon as she remembered the lack of steam billowing though, her fingers dropped. “So Saotome-san has stopped talking?”
It didn’t surprise Ririka that she was checking on her still, even without Igarashi-san’s wary eyes cataloguing their every move. “Does it surprise you?”
“I expected better.”
She always did. Ririka could write a book from the names of people that had disappointed Kirari in some way. Always particular, but needs simple when granted. She didn’t enjoy counting the years in which she catered to her every whim. “How?” she asked, even if she already knew the answer, “What was the point of bringing her over at all? You made the decision already before the phone call.”
The chuckle in response only unsettled her further. Ririka didn’t enjoy the feeling of being just slightly off-balance, the way it sank and settled long after their conversations were finished. “You’re angry!” she noted, almost exuberant at the thought, “How long did it take you to want more than just partners, Ririka? The election hasn’t been that long--”
“What are you doing here, sister?”
The teasing stopped, but the smile never faded from icy eyes. She gathered the life plan and laptop, and settled it to the side, joining the growing pile of discarded paperwork and signatures. The silence that suddenly fell over them was one of the worst she’d ever experienced, heavy and tempting to break-- as if held together by glass and nothing else. Ririka hadn’t wanted to come out with it, and she didn’t consider what it would mean for Kirari to pull those questions out. Yet, still, she gathered more items-- tea sets and tea boxes joining the disheveled pile with little thought or direction. The space that formed beside Kirari’s seat only made the dread inside her worse.
Her twin tapped just one on the wooden surface, chipping the manicured nail. Ririka picked up her chair and moved it to the other side of the desk to join her. She sat daintily back down her new seat, knees brushing against her twin as they faced each other. She gulped, visibly.
Kirari didn’t make mention of it. “It’d been a while since we played together, hasn’t it?”
Ririka nodded quietly in response, and wasn’t surprised by the coin fished out of Kirari’s pocket. It was a game that they often played together as children, practice that had been drilled into her heads before they had the presence of mind to gamble properly. The coin was a two euro-- Austrian if she remembered right. The mix of silver and gold that bordered it stuck out as a sharp contrast from typical yen coins. One side had the depiction of mozart emblazoned proudly as its head, and the other a map of Europe with stars streaking downward on the other side. The number ‘2’ was the most prominent feature on its tail. It helped to keep those defining features in mind as she predicted.
The euro had been a gift from their mother, to whoever won their first game against the other. She would be proud to know that such a prize was turned into a gamble too.
“We both have questions we want to ask. I assume it’s just as easy to let the game decide who asks first.”
“One question per victory?” though it didn’t need to be asked. As much as Kirari had changed, there were still so many things that became predictable.
“That’s fine. I’ll go first.” Kirari offered the coin in her outstretched palm, smile placid and deviously devoid of the thoughts playing in her mind. Ririka plucked the coin out, nails lightly scratching similarly pale skin.
She looked to Kirari once and sighed. There wasn’t any backing out now, she supposed. Ririka steeled herself as she placed the coin on the table, balancing between her thumbnails. What would anyone say, seeing them play such a childish game like this? Now, of all times? She supposed she should be grateful that there wasn’t anything beyond information being gambled between the two.
It was, at least, deceptively simple. There wasn’t much she could do as she let loose the coin in a fast spin, knowing full well that the ball was in her sister’s court. The objective of the game was simple-- predict which side the coin would fall after it completed its spins. There were ways to slant the odds on Ririka’s end, and ways for Kirari to predict accurately on hers-- things that as children they couldn’t manage on their own. At least, not immediately. Over time, Ririka would notice how flicking the coin a certain would give her heads more often, and over time still, Kirira would notice the changes.
They taught themselves how to gamble just as much as their family did, but Ririka had learned early on that her twin always learned just a bit faster.
“Tails,” Kirari said, just as the coin shot out between them, spinning its dizzying circles against the wood. Just as much as her finger or spin could alter the outcome, so could the surface. Like any true expensive piece, the desk had a natural finish to it, smooth enough for papers and work-- but the edge of a coin, even one as thick as a euro-- was thin.
The coin’s arch was interrupted by a telling groove of wound, smacking it unimpressively against the desk. The coin shuddered a few beats, but the ringing noise was only a prelude to Ririka’s fate. As the sisters peered on, the face of the coin’s ‘2’ was obvious to both players.
She glanced to her sister once, and hoped that whatever question came was something Ririka knew how to answer.
“If you were so worried, why did you come at all?”
Kirari was pulling back. The question was nothing, but the fact that someone like her wouldn’t start out strong was surprising on its own. The answer didn’t need any subterfuge. “Because I wanted to help you.”
“We’re competing against each other now.”
“If it was about the election maybe…”
--
Kirari could only lie so much. She knew exactly what she saw back then, alone in the hallway together. She remembered watching as Kirari put herself back together with trembling hands, eyes never focusing on one thing in particular, and something in her heart that could be described as fear. She remembered how human she looked, and perhaps, for once, the idea that the perfect world she had set up for herself would slip through her fingers.
Ririka had been stuck on the idea that it was losing Sayaka was her idea of that perfect world breaking. She didn’t know anymore than Mary or anyone else did, but there had been something different in the way Kirari turned to her. The way she looked… alone.
She didn’t help a competitor. She had helped her sister.
“We should switch places,” Kirari had said, as if the words were enough to dispel the awkwardness of seeing her in such a state. “I have a spare jacket in the council room. If you could grab that, and--”
“Are you alright?” Though Ririka had spoken it, the words still felt foreign. She couldn’t remember any other time she had asked.
The question had disjointed her, maybe. The way she stopped, fingers picking at the lace of her sleeves. A breath, and she had stood a bit straighter, shoulders back. A handkerchief out of her skirt pocket to wipe the smeared lipstick. “Yes. The jacket, please. Make-up is in the drawer by my chair.”
She did as she was told, even as the nagging thoughts never strayed far from her mind. They stuck to her-- well beyond the conclusion of their game, as Kirari terrorized Miyo and Miri with her face, even as Mary continued to avoid her for days, and even as each night, she returned home to emptiness. She hated what this election had become for both of them.
She hated that she even doubted how truly gone Kirari was.
--
The hand was open to Ririka once again, the coin ready to be returned to its rightful owner. The half-answer was sufficient then, but it only made Ririka more nervous. She'd either use it to her advantage-- answer with half-truths herself or force Ririka's guard down enough to get something truly damning out. All things considered, it was probably a bit of both. She would have to be considerate of Mary as they continue.
"Always the nervous one," Kirari remarked, a touch of amusement in her voice as she rolled the coin between her finger tips. "You know it's only going to get harder from here."
She spun the coin with grace and ease-- the prospect of losing never once crossing her mind. "Tails," Ririka spoke, voice whisper quiet as they watched the coin spin and spin between them.
Heads.
"Do you enjoy having the mask off? Where is it now?"
"Two questions."
"Fine-- the first one then. I imagine you just have it at home."
If Kirari had been at home, she would know that already. It sat at her desk, slowly gathering dust the longer Ririka pretended it wasn't there. Walking through the hallways had proved to be the most difficult, laid bare by the student population. Sometimes, she would catch the less subtle ones gawking at her before turning their head away, embarassed at being caught.
And yet, people looked at her. They were forced for the first time in years to recognize her presence. They had to look her in the eyes to see that she wasn't Kirari. And Ririka had to force herself to look back. She had to dig something out for herself, become someone.
But she enjoyed the way Mary looked at her most.
"... Yes," she admitted. Nothing to be ashamed about, but...
Kirari looked pleased. She offered the coin once again, but Ririka hesitated this time in taking it.
"You were the one that gave it to me," she said.
"You needed it. Obviously, you don't anymore."
That wasn't how she remembered it. The idea had been suggested, forcefully, as a way to face opponents head on. But it didn't take long for Kirari to use it for her own means-- as things often did when Kirari gave gifts. Over time, the mask had become unnecessary. Mannerisms, behaviors, just the way Kirari viewed and studied each person became memorized and ingrained. Still, somehow, they were here, and in just a few weeks, Ririka seemed to forget who her twin was.
She took the coin, and spun it.
"Heads."
It took her a moment to realize Kirari was wrong-- but what observations Kirari made weren't infallible. Now that she had it, Ririka wasn't sure what to ask first. Should she go for something easy? Kirari wasn't the sort to shy away from the worst, but it was so easy to doubt herself now that they were in this position.
To start-- perhaps back to their earlier conversation? "What did you and Terano talk about?"
Kirari shrugged. "The new player."
That confirmed her suspicions at least. Someone that wasn't so different from herself or even Igarashi-san. Just in the background until they had something to say. A name came to mind, but if it was true... Ririka would find out soon enough. She offered the coin back to her sister, and promptly lost the next spin.
The quick intake of breath wasn't lost on Kirari. "You need to focus more-- I heard you and Terano talking too. What would Saotome-san say to such an offer?"
She would have to talk first. It didn't matter right now, but that could be why Kirari was asking at all. She wanted her to think about it. Someone like Mary? ... She wouldn't consider the offer at all. Maybe even find it a bit insulting. The offer was only extended after they made a name for themselves, only after victories against key family members on their own.
She would scowl, and make sure that the refusal would be as easy on Ririka as it was for her. Instead, Ririka mirrored the shrug, earning a small laugh from her sister. "Much better. Then again, I know the answer already."
The next spin went better on Kirari. Something had pulled her attention away-- another shift of the bed sheets behind them. When she snapped her head back, noticed the heads before her, Kirari didn't cry foul-- simply sighing in bemusement.
"Do you think you can win this?" Ririka asked once their eyes met again. She watched for any change in her expression.
Blue eyes retreaded back to the curtain, still as ever. "... Isn't it more fun not knowing?" More guarded. It wasn't like Kirari to show her hand so early. Still, Ririka saw it.
Another spin, and Ririka bit back a smile at the correct call. They weren't done. Not yet. "What do you think will happen if you lose?"
"Now we're getting to why you're here, aren't we?"
"Kirari."
"Fine, fine." She took the coin good-naturedly. "I suppose if I'm not dead by a gamble, I'll be devoured by my own aquarium, won't I? It seems poetic enough. I hope no one disappoints."
Deflection with grandiose speeches. She'd seen it all too often to take it seriously. This would require a different approach then. The fact that she was falling back on something so obvious was... telling, to say the least.
Ririka waited. The spin was sloppy, and it was easy to call the heads well before the momentum had come to a stop.
An eye twitch. Even better.
"And Igarashi-san? If you lose that is..."
Kirari let the silence hang between them, its spectre continuing to gnaw at the nerves of them both. She could deflect much the same way-- easily admit the truth of the matter. Guilt by association was already a realistic result, but Igarashi-san was never just an impassive observer. She made deals, taunted those that fell, defended the president's honor. She was the executor of the president's will, even if Kirari hadn't always voiced those thoughts.
She'd seen it time and time again, and would still now, if not for the current division. The Bami clan may come after Ririka when it was all over, but the school? They knew her as Mary's partner now. If anything, the directive absolved her of Kirari's eventual devouring.
She couldn't, wouldn't let herself believe it was on purpose.
Kirari picked up the coin again. It glinted under the hospital overhead lights. That was it then?
Ririka looked further, only growing more frustrated by the nothing that she saw in her sister's gaze. Cold, detached as ever. "Do you know what the school is saying right now, with you gone?"
"Of course."
"They'll find out why sooner rather than later."
She looked pensive. Something deep in her thoughts, turning-- far and away out of Ririka's reach. The smile was gone. "One more game?"
Could Kirari afford it? She hadn't waited for a direct response. She supposed the fact that Ririka remained had been enough. She spun the coin with a graceful flick, and there was something wistful in the way she watched it.
"Tails," Ririka called.
The light chuckle that came out was foreign to her. They both watched the coin spin and spin, languidly slow compared to the rounds before. Ririka was already forming the next question in her mind-- even as she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to it. There was so much left in the air, so much that still dug in.
Kirari had changed, and as the coin finally stopped its roll, her hand slammed down on it palm down, covering the result for them both.
Ririka blinked. "Wha--" She snapped her attention back to her twin.
"Are you sure?"
Her voice, her questions. All of it wilted the moment she saw them.
--
It must have been fate that she would find Mary now. Ririka had still been reeling from her time spent with her twin, one of the first private conversations they had in weeks. It had been routine that took her to the spot outside of Mary's classroom, routine that had her looking through the sea of faces to find fiery brown eyes staring back. She almost thought it an illusion at first. The sympathetic wince from Suzui-san as he slipped past next, recognizing the tension in the hallway, was very real.
"Mary--"
The blonde snatched the collar of her blazer and dragged her through the corridor, away from prying eyes. Ririka remained submissive to the yanks and pushes. It would take a careful hand to talk her down from anything considerably dangerous. The fact though that she was willing to talk at all now was a very good sign.
The twist through corners and hallways was haphazard, but by the time they finally stopped, it seemed sufficiently deserted. There were a few students that milled about, but ones that seemed wisely -- if not politely-- ignoring the two of them as Mary did an about face, only a few inches from Ririka's shrinking form.
"We're cutting the bullshit, got it?" Mary snapped. "No excuses, no nothing. If I get any of it, I'm out."
Ririka nodded.
"Alright, so what the hell was that about?!"
Too vague a question, but she understood well enough. She almost welcomed the reprieve after the tense conversation from yesterday. "... She wanted the attention away from her, so she asked me to switch places."
"I get that, but the fact that she mimicked you so... I didn't think she could show anything other than.. you know."
She understood how her sister gave that impression. Often times, Ririka would forget herself. The detached air. Some sort of cocky smirk. The reality for them both was much, much scarier she thought.
Mary still looked angry. Very angry. "Has she ever switched places with you since we started working together?"
"No. I hadn't spoken to her since--"
"How can I believe that?"
Ririka winced. She couldn't blame her. It wasn't as if she had been there to see the decision play out. They hadn't known each other long enough for her to notice tells-- smaller mistakes or nuances that Ririka couldn't replicate without several days of pretending. She wasn't sure if even Sayaka could-- even after knowing them for three years at this point.
Mary's eyes were as sharp as ever, daggers in her heart. She hated this. Hated this all so much. "You've been Kirari's understudy this whole time," she wished she didn't do this. "I know you mean well, Ririka. It might be the dumbest decision, but I trust you. We can't just keep doing this though... Why would you be in this election if you weren't working with Kirari? There's no way in hell you want to be president."
She was right about that.
"I doubt anyone would let you anyway," she huffed, arms crossed-- as if working out the riddle herself without input. "Why me? Kirari already had some... weird fascination, but I barely knew you before the--"
"You're right," her voice was meeker than she wanted, but Ririka couldn't deal with the speculation. She had grown so tired of being a shadow against the wall. Mary was the first person to see her, it felt like. She didn't just take her as a Momobami, take her as her sister's double. She took her as a person-- someone that needed to prove herself against the sea of adversity that faced them.
Ririka had been proud to rise to the occasion. Had been proud to stand beside her as her equal, and she thought... she thought...
Wasn't this what Kirari wanted too? Didn't it seem like it? But why did she keep pulling the chain back?
Mary waited, eyebrows drawn and patient-- and Ririka couldn't appreciate that more. She knew it was so against her nature to be.
"... I think she needs help."
Her partner looked as bewildered as Ririka felt. "Help?! She did this to herself!"
"I know, but..."
--
Kirari had never cried.
At least, Ririka couldn't recall a time where she did. There had been these... shifts in behavior though. Ones that were difficult for her to describe, especially as, like with gambling, they started as children. They were swift and immediate, and often, Ririka would notice they came with little consideration to their consequences.
The first time had been at their mother's wake. She knew they were small, and the kimono felt too tight against her waist. Ririka had cried. She had shed more tears than what their mother likely deserved according to their elders, but there had been some semblance of love-- something Ririka keenly felt and believed in at that age. At first, she thought her twin had felt nothing in return-- as if she had taken that grief for her instead.
But when she looked into her icy eyes, they looked... wild. Unfocused. A predator pacing its cage, watching and waiting for the next hapless prey get too close to its bars.
Maybe it was how their mother died that did it. Shamed and hanging herself from the ceiling. Kirari was the first to find her in her bedroom, trying to pull her for breakfast. Ririka had been spared from the sight, even as Kirari expressed nothing other than the news of their mother's passing-- She would find out the details later from a retainer or a cousin perhaps. It was difficult to remember the details there.
Or that their mother lost against a Totobami.
Either way, Terano had come by, and after some mild discussion, they were secluded away-- out of sight and out of reach from Ririka. No one had minded the absence-- as clan members rarely did unless it involved one conflict or another.
She would see those wild eyes later though, staring down at every family member below her with fire from her bedroom balcony-- a fitting, temporary throne as their family observed the horrific scene before them. A crumpled and unconscious Terano, five cards clutched tightly in tiny fingers.
No one had taken the Momobami spot since.
But still...
Still.
To see the tears slipping down those wild eyes was a startling and mishapen image, especially to have that attention turned toward her-- those few inches between them, and Kirari tightly, tightly clutching the desk where the coin laid.
Ririka wished she had said no. She hadn't realized how much it meant to see her vulnerable-- sudden and stark in the stillness of the hospital room.
Her words were gone, but without thinking, Ririka had still reached forward, bridging the gap between them and gently slipped a thumb underneath Kirari's palm. Her twin didn't flinch, didn't move. Her breathing was steady, but Ririka's heart thumped wildly inside her chest. Her thumb found her twin's pulse, felt the steady beats against her own, and turned Kirari's hand over with no resistance.
The heads that stared back seemed to mock her. Ririka had lost.
Kirari took one look at the coin and began to laugh, loud and jubilant, even as the tears seemed to flow quicker and steadier than ever.
--
"Ririka?"
She blinked and shook-- and realized all at once that there wasn't any way she could naturally explain it to Mary. Not without explaining every sordid detail of their lives. Not without going over what she saw, when Ririka wasn't even sure of it herself. She saw the confusion still plain as day on Mary's face, and sighed slow, each piece of it an attempt to dispel what anxiety that brewed inside her at the memory.
"I... I don't know," Ririka confessed.
She was surprised to see sympathy tugging at Mary's features. "... You would know better than anyone, I think."
She wasn't sure anymore. It just took a few weeks, but it seemed Ririka had forgotten everything there was to her twin. Tears pricked at her eyes, useless and stupid for something so-- Kirari wouldn't have cared. She was just as much a subject to her whims. But she was her sister. Her twin. And right now? It all felt useless against what little time they had been separated from each other.
Mary took pity on her at least, cutting the inquisitive silence first. "Alright, alright. I'll bite," she sighed. "... So the preside-- your sister is having issues with the position. What's the point of the election then if she can just resign? A really shit cry for help?"
"If I may interject, Mary-san?"
Yumeko's airy voice had been the last thing Ririka expected, and with a jump, she snapped to a more stoic, straight posture-- fingers itching for a mask that still wasn't there. The new visitor had just rounded the corner, red eyes dangerously inquisitive and smile more calculating than Ririka wanted. The last person she needed to hear this conversation was the other wildcard in the school.
Yet, Mary humored her, regarding her classmate casually with one hand to her hips. "Figures no one can have a private conversation at this school..." she mumbled to herself before addressing Yumeko directly. "How long have you been listening?"
"I was just curious is all~. You two left in quite the hurry, and I wanted to invite you to town after class!"
"Yeah, right," Mary scoffed, but didn't push the girl away as she casually latched onto her arm, molding herself into the conversation. Every alarm was going off in Ririka's mind despite it all. Every bit of her wanted to flee. Right now. Where? Didn't matter. This was bad. Their conversation proceeded, undeterred by Ririka's distress. "... And?"
"Well, it's about the gamble the other day, correct?"
"Not all of it, but..."
"I imagine you can't just quit being a clan member, Ririka-san?" The question had been off-putting at best.
Ririka swallowed. "Well, no. But you know this already, Jabami-san."
"Huh?" Mary interjected, but Yumeko proceeded nonetheless.
"This is all speculation, of course, but the election is quite a spectacle for a resignation letter, isn't it?" The suggestion wasn't far off from Ririka's own thoughts, but to hear them spoken out loud was quite the experience. It churned her stomach. "... Igarashi-san's pool of resources is also quite large for her family history. She's a prosecutor's daughter, yet she was able to buy out Totobami-san without issue?"
"And? She could be using student council resources, maybe," Mary suggested, "The student council is still collecting on house pet debt during this whole mess, and I hadn't heard of the election committee keeping it to themselves in the mean time."
"They could be betting on another victor, you know. An outside bet-- just with enough cash-- and regardless of losing or winning, the president could have the cushion to live comfortably outside of the clan."
Ririka frowned. Something didn't sit right with her about the theory. If that were true, then the decision to turn her twin loose would make sense. Without saying anything, she could assist and push Mary to victory, thus winning the bet. Her opponent would have to be someone with just as much resources as herself to do that. The only person she could consider with that much power would be Terano... but there was no way she would take such a bet on.
There was also another issue entirely. "The Bami clan doesn't settle debt by money. Not always," Ririka remarked, "With as much as Kirari and myself have done? If it's not blood, it'll be our freedom at least."
"I won't let that happen to you, Ririka." The declaration had been unneeded, yet pleasantly unexpected from Mary. The surprise must've been too obvious as the serious set of her frown had given way to light flash of cheeks and a playful wave of her hand. Something she could look onto later, when there wasn't an audience.
Yumeko wasn't lost on the interaction as she smiled, suppressing the barest of giggles. "In any case, the president is back in school. If you're that curious, I'm sure you could ask her yourself."
"She's back?" Mary echoed her thoughts perfectly. "When??"
"I just saw her come in this morning. Sayaka-san looked remarkably well too. I'm glad the poison didn't keep her down for too long."
"Thank god! Maybe I can finally get someone to gamble again! Everyone's been so shy with votes lately."
"Oh! You haven't met them yet?"
Mary paused, "Who are you talking about?"
Ririka waited, even as she knew at this point that it would just confirm the truth in her eyes. A new target had been placed. It was a clever move on Kirari's part during her absence. It dried up the vote buying, and provided a convenient distraction while Igarashi-san was recovering. It was simply a matter of who could beat them, or perhaps, join them.
Yumeko's grin was wide. "Why, Rei Batsubami~."
