Winter Tsukuyomi ❄ Rikka Hishikawa (AU) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
peacefulwinter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
savetheearth2013-12-13 09:29 am
peacefulwinter) wrote in savetheearth2013-12-13 09:29 am
012 ♦ Closed -> Open
[after school | closed -> open]
She'd been dreading this day, ever since the horrifying moment just over ten days ago when she was escorted out of the school in handcuffs. They'd asked her, through a message between third and fourth periods, to come to the student council room after school for a special meeting, and to bring all the council's books and materials she was the caretaker of as its secretary. She was assured it wouldn't take too long.
And so, that afternoon, Winter sat in her chair near the head of the table. Before, this seat made her feel like she'd accomplished something. Like she had power... like there was something she could do. Now, it made her feel like a target, as half the assembled students stared at her, some whispering with pointed glances in her direction. She knew what was coming. And as someone clicked on the room's voice recorder and the chatter died, she felt the spotlight on her, burning through her composure.
The meeting's opening passed in a blur. Names were spoken for the record, adding hers as a formality she didn't even notice. Old business was addressed, not that she'd ever left more than a few things unanswered. The treasurer reported the money being spent on Christmas decorations.
And in new business... "As a result of her actions during the police investigation on December 2nd," the faculty advisor to the council began, "I have received a recommendation from the school board to dismiss Winter Adamas from her position as student council secretary. I have also received a recommendation she be suspended for the remainder of the semester, but I cannot, in good faith, allow it. The effect on morale would be devastating."
She pauses. Winter used to know her name. Used to know her face. Now, though the fear and the shame, she can barely hear the voice speaking her name. "I would like to hear arguments for or against this measure, but as it stands, there is nothing I can do to block it. Unless someone has new information, Winter, this will be the end. I hope, for your sake, that you or someone else can provide something. Does anyone want to comment?"
She couldn't say anything. What was she supposed to say? 'Oh, no, I'm sorry, I went too far in my role protecting the students, it won't happen again?' Or maybe, 'It's all right, I have powers and knowledge from someone who was on the student council in her past life, so it'll be fine?' There was no defense for this.
One voice. Male, possibly a year younger. She still couldn't process faces or names. "I support the measure. Duty or not, Winter is too heavy-handed. I get dirty looks from my classmates because she enforces the rules too harshly. We're not all-powerful - we're just students, like everyone else. I think she needs to learn that."
Nothing but silence for several seconds. Then, the murmurs started again. This time, she could hear the judging. Some small part of her knew what was coming. The rest of her was too scared to speak up in her own defense.
"That's enough," the advisor cut in, stopping the chatter. "I don't see anyone else looking to speak. Winter? This is your last chance to say anything," she carried on gently. "Do you have anything to add in your defense?"
The paralyzing fear gripped her even harder. But automatically, her mouth managed, "No, ma'am." She could barely hear herself, but she was pretty sure that was the blood pumping in her ears. She saw a frown from the advisor, and somewhere between pitying glances and satisfied expressions on the others.
The advisor nodded. "Then we'll put it to vote. All in favor?" A chorus of 'aye' went through the room. She was pretty sure that was every voice, save maybe one or two. "All opposed?"
Winter opened her mouth. Pushed herself. "N-n-" But it didn't come. She wasn't loud enough. Wasn't strong enough. She saw the advisor look down at her again, frowning, and she could feel in her heart that this was it.
"So be it," the advisor- no, teacher now, went on. "I'm sorry it had to come to this. Winter... this is the end. Thank you for your service to this point, but as of now, you are dismissed from the student council. I see you brought back all the books, so I won't force you to stay any longer." She stood and opened the door to the student council room, the door creaking ever so slightly. "Have a safe trip home, Winter."
She knew the dismissal when she heard it. The others held their tongues - no matter how much they liked or hated her, this was too severe to interrupt. Too important. Winter had already done the research; this had never happened before, in the school's history. Gathering her things - the lightness of her backpack registered faintly, now that the council books were gone - she scooped up Raquel, took one last look back, and walked out without another word.
Winter was pretty sure the microphone caught her sobbing as the door shut behind her. She also didn't really care. She stayed there for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, before she ran out of the school.
[afternoon and evening | open]
Shortly after the meeting was adjourned - they'd waited several minutes for Winter to calm down enough to leave before finishing up, then edited out her crying out of respect (and the faculty advisor glaring holes through anyone stupid enough to object) - the audio was posted to the school's website, as was normal. Someone, however, decided this was important news to share, and within a few more minutes it made its way to Twitter. However it got there, Winter clearly had made a few enemies, and word spread quickly. She got a text message from the advisor later that afternoon to warn her, and her tears came anew; her feet had carried her to a park bench relatively near the school, where she'd been since, and now she just wanted to hide somewhere and never come out.
Some time later that evening, she'd actually even made it onto the evening news - this was serious, and they'd been gobbling up anything they could get their hands on regarding the drug bust at the high school. They hadn't been able to use her name, but the story about "a Locke City High School senior" being dismissed from the student council for "severely overstepping her bounds" was plenty damaging - and identifying - enough. They'd tried to get a quote from the advisor, but what aired was something that almost lifted her spirits a little, amounting to "that girl is already traumatized enough without anyone else's help," and "I don't believe this was the right decision - what does this teach our children if we punish a girl for trying to help in the only way she can?" In the back of her mind, Winter was pretty sure she wouldn't be seeing the advisor again, either, but she wasn't going to worry about that now. Right now, she just felt dead inside. The phone rang all night, but she didn't dare touch it. The same went for her cell phone - unless she recognized the number, or it was coming across from the network, she just let it ring.
She'd been dreading this day, ever since the horrifying moment just over ten days ago when she was escorted out of the school in handcuffs. They'd asked her, through a message between third and fourth periods, to come to the student council room after school for a special meeting, and to bring all the council's books and materials she was the caretaker of as its secretary. She was assured it wouldn't take too long.
And so, that afternoon, Winter sat in her chair near the head of the table. Before, this seat made her feel like she'd accomplished something. Like she had power... like there was something she could do. Now, it made her feel like a target, as half the assembled students stared at her, some whispering with pointed glances in her direction. She knew what was coming. And as someone clicked on the room's voice recorder and the chatter died, she felt the spotlight on her, burning through her composure.
The meeting's opening passed in a blur. Names were spoken for the record, adding hers as a formality she didn't even notice. Old business was addressed, not that she'd ever left more than a few things unanswered. The treasurer reported the money being spent on Christmas decorations.
And in new business... "As a result of her actions during the police investigation on December 2nd," the faculty advisor to the council began, "I have received a recommendation from the school board to dismiss Winter Adamas from her position as student council secretary. I have also received a recommendation she be suspended for the remainder of the semester, but I cannot, in good faith, allow it. The effect on morale would be devastating."
She pauses. Winter used to know her name. Used to know her face. Now, though the fear and the shame, she can barely hear the voice speaking her name. "I would like to hear arguments for or against this measure, but as it stands, there is nothing I can do to block it. Unless someone has new information, Winter, this will be the end. I hope, for your sake, that you or someone else can provide something. Does anyone want to comment?"
She couldn't say anything. What was she supposed to say? 'Oh, no, I'm sorry, I went too far in my role protecting the students, it won't happen again?' Or maybe, 'It's all right, I have powers and knowledge from someone who was on the student council in her past life, so it'll be fine?' There was no defense for this.
One voice. Male, possibly a year younger. She still couldn't process faces or names. "I support the measure. Duty or not, Winter is too heavy-handed. I get dirty looks from my classmates because she enforces the rules too harshly. We're not all-powerful - we're just students, like everyone else. I think she needs to learn that."
Nothing but silence for several seconds. Then, the murmurs started again. This time, she could hear the judging. Some small part of her knew what was coming. The rest of her was too scared to speak up in her own defense.
"That's enough," the advisor cut in, stopping the chatter. "I don't see anyone else looking to speak. Winter? This is your last chance to say anything," she carried on gently. "Do you have anything to add in your defense?"
The paralyzing fear gripped her even harder. But automatically, her mouth managed, "No, ma'am." She could barely hear herself, but she was pretty sure that was the blood pumping in her ears. She saw a frown from the advisor, and somewhere between pitying glances and satisfied expressions on the others.
The advisor nodded. "Then we'll put it to vote. All in favor?" A chorus of 'aye' went through the room. She was pretty sure that was every voice, save maybe one or two. "All opposed?"
Winter opened her mouth. Pushed herself. "N-n-" But it didn't come. She wasn't loud enough. Wasn't strong enough. She saw the advisor look down at her again, frowning, and she could feel in her heart that this was it.
"So be it," the advisor- no, teacher now, went on. "I'm sorry it had to come to this. Winter... this is the end. Thank you for your service to this point, but as of now, you are dismissed from the student council. I see you brought back all the books, so I won't force you to stay any longer." She stood and opened the door to the student council room, the door creaking ever so slightly. "Have a safe trip home, Winter."
She knew the dismissal when she heard it. The others held their tongues - no matter how much they liked or hated her, this was too severe to interrupt. Too important. Winter had already done the research; this had never happened before, in the school's history. Gathering her things - the lightness of her backpack registered faintly, now that the council books were gone - she scooped up Raquel, took one last look back, and walked out without another word.
Winter was pretty sure the microphone caught her sobbing as the door shut behind her. She also didn't really care. She stayed there for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, before she ran out of the school.
[afternoon and evening | open]
Shortly after the meeting was adjourned - they'd waited several minutes for Winter to calm down enough to leave before finishing up, then edited out her crying out of respect (and the faculty advisor glaring holes through anyone stupid enough to object) - the audio was posted to the school's website, as was normal. Someone, however, decided this was important news to share, and within a few more minutes it made its way to Twitter. However it got there, Winter clearly had made a few enemies, and word spread quickly. She got a text message from the advisor later that afternoon to warn her, and her tears came anew; her feet had carried her to a park bench relatively near the school, where she'd been since, and now she just wanted to hide somewhere and never come out.
Some time later that evening, she'd actually even made it onto the evening news - this was serious, and they'd been gobbling up anything they could get their hands on regarding the drug bust at the high school. They hadn't been able to use her name, but the story about "a Locke City High School senior" being dismissed from the student council for "severely overstepping her bounds" was plenty damaging - and identifying - enough. They'd tried to get a quote from the advisor, but what aired was something that almost lifted her spirits a little, amounting to "that girl is already traumatized enough without anyone else's help," and "I don't believe this was the right decision - what does this teach our children if we punish a girl for trying to help in the only way she can?" In the back of her mind, Winter was pretty sure she wouldn't be seeing the advisor again, either, but she wasn't going to worry about that now. Right now, she just felt dead inside. The phone rang all night, but she didn't dare touch it. The same went for her cell phone - unless she recognized the number, or it was coming across from the network, she just let it ring.
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Half hour later of angry walking later, he finally reached for his phone.
"Hey. Where are you?"
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I'm at home. Is something wrong?
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Can carry you if you don't wanna scoot about.
It was an awkward offer, but what did he know about cheering people up?
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Don't worry about putting on a face or anything. Be as unpresentable as you want.
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All the same, she pushes herself up off the bed, throwing her socks and shoes back on, smoothing her skirt out, and spending a few minutes brushing her hair back out. The repetitive motion calms her down just a little, and in about twelve minutes she's waiting by the door, trying not to fall back into another fit of sobs. Or curl her hair around her fingers too much in anxiety. A small part of her was afraid he'd see her and turn right back around, and that'd kill her.
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Knock knock~
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In short, she looks terrible. "Hi, Bakura. Welcome to my personal hell." The house phone is ringing behind her; her cell phone is ringing too, but with a brief glance she silences it. Her mother doesn't seem to be home yet, and her father is wisely avoiding the house for the evening, lest he have to interview his own daughter.
...not sure how we wound up in present tense, whoops.
"Getting hammered, huh?" He reached out a hand with a faint smile of his own. "C'mon, let's get outta here."
Probably my fault. Oopsie.
Taking the offered hand and wheeling the scooter forward with her other, she pauses to lock the door behind her before turning back to him. "Where... are we going?"
Good to swap to past?
Hurr durr. Sure.
Whatever self-worth she'd built up is probably down the toilet at this point. But that probably needs to come after she's herself again.
"I'll... I'll follow you. I just... don't w-want to be here."
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She turned quiet for a moment, wrapping her arms around herself. "I can't... I can't deal with that."
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...he really wasn't good at this pep talk thing, but damnit....
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"Everything I could do... w-wasn't enough. I've got to... work harder. Fight f-for what's important." She shook her head, tone increasing. "If the rest of them d-don't want me to help... then I'm done with them. I have... precious people to protect. People that w-won't complain, or talk behind my back..."
The fire is blazing in her eyes again as she talks. Someday, she'll be able to really put it to use. For now, it's finally started to rekindle her spirit, and as she turned back to Bakura, the fog of depression has begun to burn away.
"I'm going to s-start small, but someday... someday, I'll make a difference. That's... a promise."
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Or even the ones she had the back of, what, with all the hauling around the past few days.
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But she's still smiling. All of this is important to her, amazingly so, and even if it hurts sometimes, she wouldn't trade it for the world.
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"Aaah, but the trick is not to die for people, but to trick others into doing it for you to protect them all the same~" he grinned. "The noble sacrifice is always the last resort."
But he wasn't going to correct her past that. Because honestly... he knew all too well that he would do the same for his important people.
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Shaking her head, she continued, "Besides, that costume must be m-made of something amazing. It's very tough."
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...would you believe it actually adjusts for the age of the wearer, so it's adapted to its older wearer that just doesn't have enough self-confidence to wear something that shows so much skin? She sure doesn't.
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"You mean it's a size too small or something? It looked fine what little I remember of it...."
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If he were anime-verse there would be an echo here... LOL
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