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The first few months of fencing practice had been pretty good. Learning and testing out new things every week gave Shiori a real sense of improvement, like she was actually moving forwards and had something to look up to everyday.
Of course, it wasn't meant to last. Nearly half a year in, she fell in a slump and found herself unable to do anything correctly. She couldn't react quickly enough, couldn't extend her reach well enough to hit like she needed to and whenever she tried to overcorrect any of her flaws, her posture fell apart. What little progress she had quickly made as a beginner put her in front of a mountain she had no idea how to climb.
To make matters worse, Juri had been avoiding her during club. Usually, she would take a bit of her time to look upon and personally train even the less experienced members but in the last two weeks, Shiori had only been paired with Miki for that. She was almost ready to believe Juri had judged her worthless after her try-out period ended and decided to not bother with her anymore since there was no way she could ever become useful to the club. The only thing that prevented her from completely believing this was that it was uncharacteristic of Juri to unload her charge of work, her burdens, on another person and especially not someone whom she was on friendly terms with like Miki.
Those two truly seemed to get along well, so much so that it was painful to look at them. Hearing the girls in the locker room wondering about their relationship, she dug her nails hard in her fencing uniform and tried not to think of what could be done to pull them apart. It was unbearable, that innocent happy smile Juri had on her face whenever talking to him, like everything in the world was perfectly fine and nice.
"But wasn't Miki in love with that other girl? What was her name again?"
That question put a stop to her spiralling thoughts. A hazy memory seemed to rise back to the surface and even though she had no hint regarding this girl's identity and couldn't put any name on her either, she strangely felt like she had an idea of who it was.
At first, this information was a bit of a relief but the pieces of it she couldn't remember kept following her in the clubroom, like a forgotten nightmare still weighing on her in the morning when she tried to pin it down. Perhaps she had met her while watching the fencing club practicing, a lot of people did that after all, including herself in the past. She had always been watching Juri, always watching the people watching Juri.
Even now, in the middle of training, her eyes followed her while their captain called the other members to come face her.
"Next! Next!" she would repeat and the words echoed painfully into Shiori's head, so sure she was that there would be no next for her anymore.
Miki told her to adjust the position of her arm while he paired her with a girl one year younger, who had joined the club some time before her. Shiori wanted to win and prove to herself that she was stronger than she thought but she was still distracted by the sound of Juri's sharp voice and the swiping of her blade through the dull air of the gym. It cost her the first point, then everything went badly from there.
The exercise ended with her sweating and hurting, more so from the heavy beating of her heart in her chest and the humiliating bitterness of defeat than the blows she had taken.
Since this was their afternoon training, they had no class after this and the students could take their time to leave the club and go home. Not wanting to expose her frustration more than she had already done, Shiori waited for the others to be mostly finished before taking her shower. The hot water didn't help soothe her but once she was done and saw that nobody else was in the locker room anymore, she found herself putting her fencing uniform back on instead of getting ready to leave.
Maybe she could use what little time was left before the gym closed to practice some more.
Everything was silent when she entered the huge room again and her soft footsteps on the floor seemed to resonate more loudly than the noise from dozen of students moving in that big empty space. She felt even smaller than usual, alone in there, walking close to the wall with fear rising in her stomach at the idea she might be seen.
Already, the clear light from the afternoon was diminishing, leaving place to stark shadows at the end of the room, engulfing in them the stockage space where they kept fencing targets. Shiori pulled one of them out, put it in place and stepped in front of it, breathing slowly while she tried to clear her mind.
She hit it. The sound of the blade slashing the air and bumping into the tool echoed shortly through the huge ceiling before petering out. Her position wasn't quite right, she felt, and she shifted it to try again.
The next strike echoed quite the same. She followed it by another repositioning, another hit. And again, and again, with each new move she grew more dissatisfied, yet unable to pin down what she failed to achieve. She started to glare at the target with a level of hatred that was wasted on inanimate objects. Her breath turned out short and she could feel sweat gather on her skin, under her uniform, making her ashamed she was getting so out of shape over such a ridiculous thing. Desperately, she threw herself towards it once again.
"Shiori!"
Distracted by the shout, her foot slipped slightly and her blade slid along the side of the target instead of hitting right in.
Even without turning back, she perfectly knew who that voice belonged to. It was always a challenge to face her but even more so in this position, found out and humiliated.
At least, the fencing mask hid her face and expression from her. With how it limited her field of vision too, it was easier to look in her direction while keeping her at the edge of her sight.
"What were you thinking? Training hours are over, you shouldn't overexert yourself."
Juri stood in her student council uniform, her hair still looking slightly wet from the shower she must have taken before changing. She always showered apart from the others and though it might have been some of her privilege as the club's captain, Shiori also had a few other ideas about the whys.
Waiting for an answer, Juri stared straight at her, the cold color of her eyes pushing her to avoid looking back directly. Perhaps there had been concern in her tone and Shiori loathed that possibility as much as she craved to hear her voice break a bit more. Her hand still held onto the blade, fingers tense on the handle.
"I just wanted to practice a little bit more, I clearly need it," she bit back bitterly, unsure whether she was hoping for reassurance or for Juri to lay into her how worthless exactly she was.
"Not like this, you can't practice when you're in such a state. You might hurt yourself if you're too worn out and distracted by your emotions."
If this had been during club hours, she would have probably obeyed without a second thought, unwilling to cause problems and attract attention. However, it was after and they were alone, the situation sprouting a seed of rebellion inside her heart. She got into position again, erasing Juri from her view.
"Shiori..."
Whether Juri's call was a warning or a plea, she couldn't quite tell but she aimed for the target all the same.
Juri stepped forward and shouted but Shiori didn't even wait to hear what she had to say before answering, almost at the same time.
"Shiori, I'm telling you to stop!"
"I know, I'm just doing one last strike!"
In her haste, she misjudged her aim. The thin sword hit the side of the target and the gesture was so impetuous it bounced back, going wide before grazing against Juri's hand just as she took another step her direction, reappearing fully in her line of sight.
Shiori dropped her sword and its clinking on the ground drowned the low cry of pain Juri couldn't quite bit back.
"I, I didn't meant to... I'm sorry..."
Juri had changed out of her fencing gear but even if she hadn't, the hand hit was not the one which would have been protected by a glove and the rounded point of the blade could only do so much to prevent damage. A red blotch bloomed on the hurt skin, extending like roots from a flower in the tender spot between the thumb and the index. She quickly covered it with her other hand, curling up on herself for a few seconds until she managed to handle the pain and could stand up again.
"See? What did I tell you? You really shouldn't practice if you aren't clear-headed. And dropping your sword like that is also dangerous."
The grimace on Juri's face had already been replaced by the serious expression of the club captain when she taught the other students. Shiori was impressed, abashed and bitter all at once.
She couldn't prevent a resentful part of her from blaming Juri for the incident. If she just hadn't moved forward so imprudently, this wouldn't have happened. Her thoughts were getting heated inside her fencing mask and her already limited vision diminished with her breathing getting unruly. Unable to bear it any longer, she took of the mask.
Without it, the world felt lighter and too wide. Juri bent down again to pick up her forgotten sword. Once she rose back, Shiori caught her wounded hand to better look at it. The more she stared, the more vivid the red seemed to be.
She leaned down and kissed the bruise, wondering if it would taste of blood. Juri retracted her hand before she could feel anything though, as bruskly as if she had been bit.
"Stop it. Stop messing around, this isn't funny, Shiori."
"I'm not. I was only trying to make it better. Isn't this something we used to do, when we were younger?"
Juri's face contorted, like the memory was bringing her pain. Shiori couldn't help herself from bringing up those times, before she had messed-up everything. She still couldn't stop from wishing to go back to them in some form or shape and didn't know if the hurt that Juri showed her meant it was the same for her but she certainly hoped so. She needed her to keep experiencing that same longing under the mask of apathy and her words that the past didn't matter anymore.
And yet, deep inside Shiori's heart, she felt that it was over and that Juri had truly put their childhood behind her. Part of herself thought she had joined the club to do the same, to finally take action and try something new that she had watched from afar for so long, but perhaps those were just new attempts to build another bridge between them, right on top of the old one.
"I'm sorry, alright?"
She caught Juri's hand between her fingers again, the slight pressure making her wince. Softly, Shiori brushed her thumb over the skin. The temptation to kiss it again was there, with the naive belief the second time would work better.
Now that she thought about it, that kind of thing had probably only happened once or twice. She had scrapped her knees one time while playing but it was her cheek that Juri had kissed to distract her from the pain. And that time that Juri had been hurt during her first competition, Shiori had given her a hug to comfort her and her lips had touched the side of her neck in a happy accident that had sent shivers bubbling all over her body. That was what she could really remember.
"Go change yourself and let's leave. Most club activities should be over by now so the gym will be closed soon."
Juri's words took her out of her reverie and Shiori went back to the changing room. Her useless clandestine training had gotten her sweaty all over again but she would have to wait to be in the dormitory to take another shower.
When going to put back her fencing gear in the locker room, she saw two late members of the badminton club doing the same, chatting happily about this and that. She passed through a few more students on the way out and was surprised by the sight of Juri waiting for her outside.
"Were you afraid I wouldn't listen and stay?"
"No," Juri answered but she looked away, hiding her expression from Shiori and making her all the more suspicious.
They walked through the well-maintened alleys of Ohtori, passing under rows of trees and along neatly trimmed bushes. Whether they were actually walking together or simply in the same direction remained to be seen however. Their footsteps were a bit off, Shiori having to walk at a slightly wider pace to keep up and not fall behind.
It reminded her of the days before she finally decided to send her application to the fencing club. She would constantly follow Juri without daring to catch up or call to her.
She already couldn't remember how long it lasted, only that it had started sometimes after the big drama of Ruka coming to school then leaving again. At some point, Juri had stopped looking her way and she found herself missing the unnerving shivers she always felt when noticing a brief glance in her direction. Having no excuses to look back, she found herself faced with the choice of waiting for a change or chasing after her.
Despite how pitiful the second option made her look, she was scared of the distance that would grow even more between them if she were to stay passive.
Walking besides her, a part of Shiori felt almost content. She considered grabbing her hand to force her to slow down and go to her pace; they had often walked hand in hand when younger, so it should have been fine.
But no, doing so as high-schoolers was a more complicated matter. Her attempts at discerning what was a normal amount of physical contact by observing her classmates could sometimes leave her confused and anxious. There were innocuous gestures from other girls that got her overwhelmed for no reason and she didn't always understand what made for a safe spot to touch or not. She had to study attentively how her classmates acted to belong and feel at ease.
From what she had found in Juri's pendant by accident, she supposed she didn't dare getting close to the girls in the shower, for fear of getting unwanted thoughts. Shiori was different though; she blent in, she acted like she saw nothing, noticed nothing, and everything was usually fine this way.
In the end, she decided against reaching out for Juri. Her hand was still sweaty from the training anyway and she didn't want her to feel that.
Though it felt longer, their trip together lasted no more than a few minutes and Shiori went up the stairs towards her room alone. Closing the door behind her, the decor she had gotten used to seeing every day since coming back to Ohtori welcomed her in. This one person bedroom was pleasantly spacious, except for the times she had a row with friends and then it seemed too big, letting loneliness ample space to sprawl out.
After a moment of contemplation, Shiori grabbed a towel and shampoo and aimed for the dormitory showers. Under the steady gush of water, she tried not to think of the wet tips of Juri's hair, of her standing all alone in a similar position less than an hour ago, or of what she might have been doing right now.
She tried not to think of the red bruise too, but the image followed her until she went to bed.
The next days, her eyes often glanced towards Juri's hand, unable to stop herself from looking at the trace she had left. Shiori heard classmates exclaiming in horror over the wound and froze in place, waiting anxiously to hear Juri's answer to them. But the only thing she said was that she had accidentally hurt herself at practice. Soon, purplish tones drowned the vivid red, before fading in turn to a paler blue.
Club time was still the same, Juri distant and Shiori herself inefficient. Miki seemed to be trying to encourage her after she went against him to check her progress but she barely listened, more focused on Juri's training of other students. At least, the hand she'd accidentally hit hadn't been her dominant one, so it probably didn't bother her too much in her activities.
Whenever she thought about the bruise, she could see it again in her mind, the way the fencing sword had grazed against the skin and how out of control everything had felt despite her being the one holding the blade firmly in her palm. It seemed she always caused disasters like this, not thinking enough before she let her primal emotions take the reins and push her towards the destruction of others and herself.
After practice that day, she didn't feel like going straight back to her room and wandered through the school courts and gardens instead. Before she could realize where she was going though, her feet brought her away from the soothing greenery and towards an old, abandoned building with its walls scorched black by sooth.
She remembered hearing the ghost stories from classmates back in middle school, of the fire and who might have died in it, even though supposedly no one had been hurt. The place looked oddly familiar, considering she didn't remember ever daring to come close to it then.
Looking at the crumbled stones also brought other, unconnected memories to mind. She saw flashes of Juri's pendant, forgotten in a place it shouldn't have been in, of cold water dripping from her hand with a clicking sound and of a warm sunset in a mostly empty room. Whenever she tried to make out the finer details of what had happened on that day she had looked inside the locket, she could only remember putting it back where Juri would find it and trying to forget all about that, to pretend she hadn't seen anything. But it never felt right, like forcing a puzzle piece in the wrong spot.
At that time, she had realized some things about Juri and some about herself that she'd been trying to ignore, to push away. Now, everything was hazy so perhaps she had succeeded.
"Shiori, you shouldn't go there."
The sound of Juri's voice startled her and she turned around, already on the defensive and ready to bite back.
"Why shouldn't I?"
"It's dangerous. Students aren't allowed to approach those ruins, you know that."
"And you followed me secretly to tell me what I already knew?"
Holding her arms close to her body, Shiori watched attentively the way Juri's jaw tensed and how her hands clenched. By now, the bruise had turned to uglier colors, greyish blue and brownish yellows clashing on the skin. It felt almost like a crime, that she had dirtied Juri's hand like this.
She received no explanation for the stalking, which both annoyed and thrilled her. Being followed like she was unable to do anything alone cut deep into her but the truth that Juri still wasn't quite able to let her go was reassuring. The moment she caught her shifting her foothold to leave, Shiori moved closer to grab her before she escaped. She might not have any good reflexes when it came to fencing but apparently, she was at the top of her game when in need to catch Juri off guard otherwise.
Being face to face, a breath away and her feeble hands easily keeping still those stronger arms, new flashes sparkled through her head. A sudden craving took her of rising her fingers to Juri's chest with a feeling of déjà vu.
"Stop it, Shiori."
The usually sharp voice was trembling, begging her. Juri had closed her eyes but it only made Shiori wonder if it was out of fear or from a secret wish for her to do the opposite of what she was being asked and to break the remaining distance between them. People did kiss with their lids shut, after all.
She moved slightly closer, heartbeat maddeningly loud in her ears, but she stopped before reaching Juri's mouth. Perhaps she was afraid too, or she believed that if she tried anything more, Juri would really flee from her.
"Tell me something and I'll go, alright?" she offered instead.
"What do you want?" Juri asked, shaking ever so slightly in her arms. However, the look in her eyes was unflinching when she opened them again.
"Why do you avoid me during club hours?"
"I'm not avoiding you."
"You won't even come near me! You don't make me practice against you at all anymore. Am I so bad that you don't want to bother at all?"
Juri sighed at that and easily slipped away from her, as if understanding what was the matter had given her back her cool.
"That's not it at all. You were... distracted when you practiced against me. You couldn't stay focused, that's why I switched out with Miki. Your concentration against him is better."
Shiori took the blow heavily, breathing in and out in quick succession. She wished she had it all under control, that she could be as cold as Juri was on the surface but it didn't work. Whenever she managed to see one crack in Juri's armor, she exposed herself tenfold.
"Let's go, now."
Juri started leaving. Shiori's brain had trouble catching up, trying to find any way to one up the hit she had taken. The only thing that came to her was grabbing Juri's hand, like she had wished to do the other day.
It made her tense up immediately and Shiori shivered with glee at the sensation of her arm's taut muscles and the sight of her body's robotic movements while on the inside, Juri was surely desperately trying to kill any feeling that must have been stirring. They walked slowly, Shiori's own feet barely remembering how to move past each other in the circumstance. Her hand clenched harder than she intended over Juri's, right around the remnants of the bruise.
Once they reached a more populated section of the school, the anxiety of being looked at in this place of normalcy grew inside Shiori like a rash, burning and itching at her neck. Sweat gathered on her back, spreading discomfort through her whole body, but she found herself unable to let go of Juri's hand even then. Her fingers dug in like they were holding on for dear life, feeling the bones under the perfect skin.
It was torture to walk up to the dormitory building. She hated every second of it, while delighting in the pain at the same time. Judging by Juri's closed off expression, she guessed she was also masochistically enjoying this.
"See you tomorrow," they each said flatly once they went their separate way, like they were barely friends, like they were nothing more than classmates.
In her lonely room, Shiori turned around, taking steps forwards and then back, agonizing over every stupid choice she had made today as they flashed in her mind to shame her. Despite having a better idea of what she wanted, she didn't feel any closer to being satisfied about her situation. Her hand tickled where she had held Juri, yet she barely could feel the memory of her presence on it anymore. Only the uncomfortable, prickly emotions remained.
Three days later, at the end of practice, she saw Juri taking off her glove and realized the mark she had left had now entirely disappeared.
She quickly changed and went to the door of Juri's shower room, putting her ear to the wood to listen to the sound of water flowing. If she entered now, she would find her entirely naked under the spray, droplets running all over her skin. No necklace would weight down at her neck, since she hadn't been wearing one in a long time; Shiori had looked for it every day.
Her fingers brushed against the handle, not quite gripping it yet. She pressed herself closer against the door. If she entered, she could silently walk up to Juri and grab her from behind. Holding her wet body against hers, she'd let the water soak up her school uniform. Her breasts would squeeze behind Juri's back as she tightened her grip, nipples hardening from the chill of damp fabric rubbed against wet skin.
Shiori pulled on the handle and it stopped midway through, blocked by the lock. In her frustration, she shook it a few more times like it would change anything. Following that, the sound of the shower was suddendly cut.
"Who is it?"
Juri's voice sounded even, if slightly bothered.
"It's me."
She vaguely hoped Juri might unlock the door and partially open it upon recognizing her voice, just so she could catch a glimpse of her in this position of weakness. Of course, there was no way Juri would expose herself like that even—or especially?—to her. Shiori resorted to waiting out, standing against the wall facing the door.
After a little while, she heard the click of the lock and Juri left the room, impeccably dressed in her student council uniform. The moment she saw Shiori was still there, her demeanour shifted to a guarded one.
"What did you want?"
"What do you think I did?"
Juri sighed and didn't answer her question. Avoiding looking at her, she moved towards the exit. Shiori stepped forward to block her path.
"What would you want me to want, then?" she tried again.
"I don't know," Juri snapped back.
Raising her hand slowly, Shiori reached for her cheek. The gesture forced Juri to look her direction, eyes insecure. She didn't try to escape her touch and once Shiori had her palm against her skin, she knew that Juri wouldn't be able to avoid her gaze anymore, until her next move. It was risky, but just like she had decided to take a step forward by joining the fencing club, she needed to do the same if she wanted Juri to keep looking her direction, to keep her close.
She kissed her. Juri barely answered, stuck in place, shaking against warm lips. But Shiori found out she didn't mind her lack of reaction, enjoying the feebleness of her body as she pulled on her nape to bring her closer, making her lean in so she would be easier to kiss. She liked how pliable her lips were, how easily it was to push her to lose her breath.
Once Shiori drew back, Juri still didn't move. Her hands kept shaking, like they wanted to reach forwards but she didn't dare to and her face was prettily flushed from their making out. Shiori felt her own breath catch up and her heart beat faster. She had done it and everything seemed to fall into place. With just one last thing, she might feel at ease at last.
"Did you like it?" she asked, taking her hand.
If she looked from up close, she could still discern a very faint trace of where the bruise had been. Not waiting for a reply, she rose it to her lips, kissed it, then sucked on the skin, pulling it between her teeth. Once she let it go, the flesh was vivid red again for a small moment, before it mostly faded to a softer color.
Were she to do the same everyday though, it would never completly disappear. And perhaps the same would apply to Juri.