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Rika thought it was strange. She wasn’t all that concerned with the fact that a new duelist showed up. And won their first match. Against the vice-president of the kendo club (if it matters). She thought that it was strange that her newest fiancé didn’t care to even ask her name.
She called herself ‘Fumimaro’. A boy’s name. Hitomi didn’t even notice she was battling yet another girl. Barely sputtering out in between grunts and the dull thump of metal against broomstick that, “He’s stronger than he looks..”. Rika expected nothing less of her now-ex. She was incredibly dull in spite of the flood of words that poured out of her mouth each hour. And her sharp hand wouldn’t be missed now that she belonged to another.
That is, if she can even find her.
She couldn’t have gone far, and as Rika rounded the sports shed, she caught sight of her back. If it wasn’t for her shorter than average height, and the bump of a poorly-bound chest, Rika could have been fooled like the rest. ‘Fumimaro’ carried herself prouder than the 6 foot tall basketball-playing boys who thought they ran the school.
It seemed like she was trying to make it to the west dorms. Rika would cut her off at the fountain.
“Hello.” The startle ‘Fumimaro’ gave almost made Rika smile. She turned just slowly enough to regain composure.
“Hello.”
Her face kept the same plastered indifference it had in the arena. Fiddling with the buttons of her boy’s uniform, the girl looked drained. She was most likely regretting ever stepping foot in this cursed school.
“As your fiancée, I am to stay by your side. Please try to not leave me behind.”
Rika gave the other girl her warmest, softest, smile. Squeezing whatever fabricated-joy she could find from within her cold, still insides, out onto the spring night. It worked surprisingly fast.
‘Fumimaro’ swayed at the spot, eyes opening up to reveal all her pure innocence. Mouth moving to form absolutely nothing. It made Rika shiver in disgust.
Her dry throat formed a response she surely had practiced while trying to sneak away. “I don’t need a fiancée. You can go back to your dorm.”
Rika, still unmoving from the place she cut the other girl off, blinked ahead. Everything was going just as it always has. As it always will go. The perfect cue for her step forward.
“Regardless of how far, my fiancé goes, It is my duty to follow.” A hand’s reach away, Rika stopped. ‘Fumimaro’ was terrible at controlling her emotions. Rika could read her like a children’s book.
She’s pretty.
I’m hungry.
When can I go to bed?
The email should be reaching her cell-phone soon. About how she’s been relocated to the North Garden dormitory. Whose only two residents have been brought together by a cruel, planned fate.
Words seemed to form on ‘Fumimaro’s’ tongue. Regardless of what the content was, her face gave away the simple want she held. Of what, specifically she wanted, it surely wasn’t anything more depraved and darker than what Rika had experienced before. The beep came just in time.
Taking the chance the other girl gave by dipping into her pant’s pocket, Rika stepped forward, digging her hand between ‘Fumimaro’s’ bent elbow and waist. Stealing her books away before she could even oppose.
“I- hold on.” She was much too busy taking in the school’s announcement of her impromptu move, raising the chunky, sticker cover cell closer to her face. Squinting into the street-lamp lighted air, as if echolocating her new dorm with the incoherent mumbles let out. Rika was getting inpatient.
“Did you get moved as well? I believe we’re both heading to the North Garden dormitory.”
While demurely said – due to years of practice – Rika had already started to move towards their destination. And ‘Fumimaro’ couldn’t help but stumble behind.
“How did you know?”
“I’m your fiancée.”
--
The school’s workers were just too good. They had already set up their room. On the third floor. Left hall. Four doors down. At the end of the hall. No matter how many fiancés had entered this room, and decided to fill the small 12 by 19 foot room with their unconcerning sense of comfort, Rika was always the bottom bunk bed. As the Rose Bride should be. Submissive. Under.
But, ‘Fumimaro’ was quicker than Rika expected. She already threw herself, outdoor clothes and all, on the nearest bed. The bottom bunk.
Rika just stood at the door. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
“Do I have to stay with you in this room? All the other ones were empty.”
Looking up to the voice ahead, Rika couldn’t stop the glare she sent ‘Fumimaro’, unassumingly fiddling with the overhead springs of the top mattress.
As she approached her lazing frame, Rika spoke: “Fumimaro-sama, why don’t I set up your bath, before we lay down?”
Close enough to tug the other girl’s loose uniform, and drag her from her bed, Rika folded her arms calmly in front of herself. Patience never ran low for her duty. A true, perfect Rose Bride surrenders all self-will and want to her fiancé; the Rose Bride is but a vessel for the love of her winner.
“Huh? I probably should, shouldn’t I…” as ‘Fumimaro’ rose from the bed, she twisted the ring on her left ring finger. Three times right, and once left. “But don’t bother fixing me anything, go use one of the other showers.” She threw over her shoulder, not even knowing the direction of the bathroom, or the fact that they turned off the water to all the other bathrooms. Rika would use the time to prepare dinner.
--
By the time it came for bedtime, ‘Fumimaro’ hadn’t opened her eyes in hours. Rika couldn’t even stop her from dozing off, swamped with the chore of cleaning up the mess she made in the kitchen.
Her chest was still binded, and looking through her drawers, Rika found all her clothes to be three sizes bigger than ‘Fumimaro’s’ actual size.
Moving to the girl’s worn out wallet, Rika mulled on whether finding out the girl’s real name. Taking a quick look back, she decided it was safe enough.
What she found on the school identification card, was nothing. New that is.
She didn’t dare actually believe her parent’s named her ‘Fumimaro’. The next logical thought was that she was an orphan, a sponsored orphan, randomly plucked from a sea of nameless faces. For what purpose, because there was always an ulterior motive in the academy, was to be found soon. Yet, Rika doubted the girl who wouldn’t even look her way, and fumbled with everything but the broomstick borrowed in the arena came here with a purpose.
The Rose Bride supposed time, would tell, as it always did.
Just after standing to her aching feet, Rika remembered what wouldn’t be completed tonight. Consummation. Of their engagement.
The most vital part of their entire relationship. For a moment Rika wanted to scream. The thought of getting the other girl up, and explaining the whole thing, because she already knew ‘Fumimaro’ would just want to know why, felt worse than all the other fiancés that had laid claim to her already. The others knew what they were fighting for. They knew what it meant to win the Rose Bride, regardless of if they actually cared for Rika. She had no need to speak of the act. It was just done.
Staring some more at ‘Fumimaro’, Rika thought best of just getting it done now. Dios wouldn’t have to get involved any further.
“Hey.”
Hovering over the sleeping girl, ‘Fumimaro’ barely had time to open her eyes before Rika sank down. Onto her splayed lap. Her hands twitched to action, trying to push the intruder off.
Rika was stronger than she looked.
“ ‘Fumimaro’-sama, wake up.” The girl’s hands were caught in the waistband of Rika’s skirt. Pressed into her hips by another pair of palms.
As Rika leaned forward some more, she lifted her weight off of ‘Fumimaro’s lap, balancing precariously on her knees, digging into the mattress below. Her hands came up to rest by the other girl’s head. ‘Fumimaro’ had no choice but to push up against her to stop Rika from crashing down.
“ ‘Fumimaro-sama’, I forgot to tell you something very important. Please listen.” In the middle of her request, Rika had begun to unbutton her own shirt. ‘Fumimaro’ stayed frozen. “There’s a custom; for the Rose Bride and her fiancé.”
Whilst speaking, Rika took careful notice of ‘Fumimaro’s’ wandering, skittering eyes. Never stopping for more than half a second, the other girl’s glance left an uncomfortable buzz on Rika’s skin, wherever it went.
Having another girl as her fiancé didn’t make things any better. More than half the school was female, and that translated to the duelist pool. When she met her first female fiancé, Rika was excited. Ishiguro Aya was a tall, slim, broad-shouldered upperclassman who defeated the past male successor with such an ease, the Rose Bride was sure no one would come after.
Their first night together, Rika prepared more than usual, tidying herself up in the nightstand’s mirror as Aya stepped out of the adjacent bathroom. Barely resting weight on the edge of the bed, the girl waited anxiously for her senior’s first move. Then came a fearfully strong grip. If anything, it was worse than all the males before. At least Rika expected them to be flesh-hungry monsters.
Since then, the Rose Bride was simply impartial to all who ended in her bed.
“As consummation of our new, passionate love, we must spend the night, together.”
If ‘Fumimaro’ wasn’t tense before, she was now. The grip on Rika’s hips tightened, forcing her to stop her movement towards ‘Fumimaro’s’ belt. She wriggled her way farther up the bed.
“Huh?”
This imbecile of a fiancé was quickly burning the last of Rika’s patience. How could she possibly not know anything of this school, the student council, and End of the World’s purpose? How could this girl have obtained the rose ring, and defeat the last victor without so much as a clue to what all of this was?
Yet, Rika knew that putting it bluntly wouldn’t help either. Perhaps ‘Fumimaro’ was a visual learner.
Plucking the other girl’s right hand from her hip, Rika set it between her legs, pressed right up to her groin. It was instinct that caused her to slump forward when ‘Fumimaro’s’ fingers twitched slightly. “Please touch me. So that this night ends as it should.” She breathed out. From beneath, the newcomer finally gathered whatever logic she had, and set herself into motion.
First came the hold on Rika’s right thigh. She really couldn’t call it a grip, or a grasp; as the other girl’s touch was much more, stable than previous experiences. A rough hold shoves you out of balance, with not even the conductor having control of what’s to come.
Next was the shuffle back into the sheets of the bunk bed. ‘Fumimaro’ tried to angle her body as best as she could onto the pillows behind. Leaving Rika to fold into the slightly lower divot of her bent hips. Removing the abnormal curve of the Rose Bride’s spine.
“I just go for it?”
“Sure.”
Rika so wished she could tell her newest captor how no decorum, or preamble was needed for something so plain and uncouth. Her tenderness in pulling down Rika’s open shirt from her shoulders, dragging it out longer than need be fired up an uncomfortable rage. It presented itself as a settling shuffle into the thighs below.
By then, ‘Fumimaro’ was trying to figure out a way to lay Rika down, without asking.
“Can you,..?”
“Here.”
Hello Project Academy only provided its students with a stiff, single bed mattress. Regardless of her status, and the influence of Dios, Rika’s quarters conformed to regulations. As to how both girls fit side-lying, facing one another, was due to the press of ‘Fumimaro’, and her right leg, thrown over Rika’s as they had shifted.
Rika’s bare back pressed against the cold of the wall, contrasting the warmth of the other girl’s staggering breath onto her exposed skin.
There was no sound, but the drag of the other girl’s calloused finger pad could be felt stumbling it way to, and between the centerfold of Rika’s leg. No slick helped its journey.
The swamping heat ‘Fumimaro’ emitted icked onto Rika, as she struggled to pull her stuck hand from under ‘Fumimaro’s’ shoulder. The force that was once conserved, rocketed her elbow into the wall behind. The thud it made barely covered how painful it felt. ‘Fumimaro’ never noticed.
“It’s very soft..”
The mumbling of the other girl focused Rika’s eyes back.
“Please, go on"