Chapter Text
A pair of dice rolled across the table, clicking dramatically against the wood before finally falling still on two numbers.
One and six.
Someone gasped.
The air in the room stilled.
But Mary just rolled her eyes, “If you’re gonna cheat, you could at least respect me enough to make it harder to figure out.” She said, feigning boredom.
Itsuki looked from Mary to the dice, face reddening. Was it anger or embarrassment? She crossed her arms, like a child, “I’m not cheating!” She responded defensively.
Mary raised her eyebrows.
Itsuki groaned, “You’re gonna walk me through it, aren’t-“
“I knew from the moment you rolled on the second turn. The odds of throwing that combination were 1 in-“
Itsuki held her hand up, cutting Mary off, “Don’t want to hear it.” She let out a huff, “It’s just- we always go to the same coffee shop after school...I wanted to pick for once.” She complained.
Mary gave her a hard stare, “Then you should have played better.” She said simply, “Maybe take an acting class while you’re at it. The gasp was a bit much.”
Itsuki scoffed, “Seriously, Mary? It was a low-stakes gamble.”
Mary crossed her arms, “What example would I be setting if I let you off? People would think I went soft.” She responded with a casual shrug.
Itsuki frowned and began packing the dice away, “No one would ever think that.” She said flatly.
Mary leaned back comfortably in her chair, “So where should we go this afternoon?” She looked at Itsuki, “Maybe... Jasmine?”
Itsuki’s head shot up, “Wait...”
Mary shook her head, fully aware that Jasmine was the coffee shop with the fruit tea that Itsuki liked, “Do I need to remind you again that I kicked your ass? Don’t fight me on this.” She retorted.
Itsuki broke a smile, shutting her bag happily, “You are soft...” She teased quietly.
Mary knew her face turned red, but there was nothing she could do to stop it, “Stop...or I’ll take it back.”
Itsuki let out a light laugh, childlike and carefree, “I don’t suppose our new muscle will be joining us.” She gestured over Mary’s shoulder.
There was no one there, but Mary immediately knew who she was talking about. Her masked partner- the Vice President. Luckily, she had a student council meeting this afternoon so she was nowhere to be found.
Mary stiffened at the mention of her, “Well, I don’t...” She cringed, “Should I invite her?”
Itsuki stared at Mary for a moment and then let out a bursting laugh, “Hell no!” She replied, “The student council ruined my life, and yours.”
Mary smirked with a shake of her head. For once, Itsuki wasn’t wrong. She gave a quick nod, “You’re right. They aren’t our friends.” She said darkly, “They’re just freaks.”
Itsuki leaned over the table, “Agreed!” Her smile cut through Mary’s tone like a butcher knife, “Still, I am kind of dying to know what’s on the other side of that mask.” She added offhandedly.
Mary tensed.
Itsuki looked up casually, still half-joking, “You haven’t seen yet, have you?” She leaned forward again, “Is she horribly scarred? Like I’m picturing a Midari situation, but worse.”
Mary cringed. Sometimes Itsuki could be so morbid. She shook her head.
“So you haven’t seen?” Itsuki raised an eyebrow, “Or have you seen, and she isn’t scarred? What does she look like then?”
Mary thought back to the moment she’d run into the Vice President for the first time. Her mask had flown off before Mary could even process it, and then, Kirari’s face greeted her.
Except it wasn’t Kirari exactly.
Well, it wasn’t really her at all. Somehow, Mary had been able to tell that right away.
The Vice President’s eyes had a tortured essence to them, a sincere and subtle fear underlying the famous icy blues that the President was known for.
Her cheeks had glowed red, illuminating her face and then both of her hands, gentle and nimble, had reached up to feel that the mask had slipped away.
The shock in her eyes had been so real. For a moment, the curtain had fallen and there was just a human being left behind, one who was absolutely mortified.
It had all been so endearingly normal.
Thinking back to the moment, Mary almost smiled.
“Come on. Now that we’re friends-“
Mary turned on Itsuki, “You’re using a very liberal definition of that word.”
Itsuki paused, wheels in her mind turning, slowly… “Now that we’re both friends with Yumeko, you have to tell me things.” She corrected, crossing her arms, “If you don’t, I’ll remind her about that hug that you owe her.”
Mary gave Itsuki a dead stare. The other girl wasn’t bluffing. Being a little shit was practically her entire personality, so she definitely wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice Mary’s personal space for her own gain.
Itsuki crossed her legs and smiled, knowing she’d won, “Just give me one word.”
Mary creased her eyebrows. The first word that came to her mind, what she’d picked up from both of her encounters with her unmasked partner, wasn’t appropriate, even though it was true...
The Vice President was stunning.
Not just because if her literal appearance...Kirari had that too. No, her twin was different.
Where the President always seemed cold and apathetic, her twin had a certain warmth about her.
The Vice President’s eyes were blue, but not icy. Her expression was controlled, but not blank.
She’d looked like Kirari, yes, but she’d felt like someone entirely different. It was almost as if she were an artist’s rendering of her twin- one created with a gentle, subdued interpretation.
Even when she was trying to be firm, even when she was trying to be threatening, some of that irritating softness still came through.
Nope, none of that was appropriate.
Could she say pretty? Still no.
Objectively attractive? Definitely not.
Maybe jarring? Unsettling?
No, no...none of that felt right.
She couldn’t even say that she was Kirari’s twin. How else would she be able to describe her?
Mary took in a breath to calm herself before she got frustrated, “She’s, uh, normal.” She lied.
Itsuki eyed her for a moment, unamused, and then shrugged, letting it go, “Must be some really messed up story behind the mask then, huh?” She said nonchalantly, “Let’s go find Ryota and Yumeko. Don’t mention the cheating thing, okay?”
Mary rolled her eyes, but she was still trying to recover from the conversation they’d just had. Why were her cheeks burning? Why couldn’t she get the other girl out of her head? Even when she wasn’t around, Mary couldn’t escape her.
There must be some really messed up story behind the mask...
Mary sighed. As if her mostly silent companion would ever give her the details.
I just need to win the election. Then, I won’t have to see or think about her ever again.
If Ririka never had to hear the sound of tea being poured again, she was sure she’d die happy.
Tea was for proper meetings, artificial moments. It was an elitist beverage, a symbol of power and prestige, and too often, it was associated with tense and unpleasant conversations with her parents.
Why Kirari insisted they have it everyday during their free period, she’d never understand.
After pouring out their glasses, her younger sister extended her a cup, watching carefully as she took it, no doubt attempting to pinpoint weaknesses. Would Ririka’s hand falter? Would she drink her tea too fast or too slow? What story would her behavior tell?
Ririka chose to show her nothing. She took the glass- without even the hint of a shaking hand- and then set it down calmly on the coffee table.
Kirari raised her eyebrows, undoubtedly amused, “Not going to drink?” She smirked, “Worried I’m going to poison you?”
Ririka almost smiled then. This was exactly why people thought her sister was insane, but she knew better, “Without me, who would go to your piano lessons?” She responded, playing the game.
Kirari chuckled and sat down on the couch, “Point taken. Those lessons sound dreadfully tedious...” She lifted her glass of tea to her lips, “If I had stayed though, do you suppose I’d be playing like Mozart by now?”
Ririka gave a slight shrug.
Kirari laughed to herself again, “It’s intriguing to think about, isn’t it? All the different lives we could have led, all the people we could have been.” She mused as she stirred her tea a bit more.
Ririka wasn’t sure if intriguing was the word she’d use. Considering the various paths she could take in life terrified her, but what felt even worse was the thought of what she’d already missed in the past, to end up here now. Sharing a life. One. With another person. She looked up at her sister, who was already watching her. Had she shown too much emotion? What had Kirari seen?
“You know what I think about sometimes...” Kirari pondered, her voice growing much too serious, “If mother and father had grown careless when we were children, could they have ever made a mistake...?” Her eyebrows creased for the briefest second.
Ririka didn’t like where this was headed.
“Our identities weren’t based on anything then. We were children. Just little things with names.” She tapped her fingers against her glass, “Aspects that could have easily been switched.”
Ririka frowned before she could stop herself. She wanted to tell Kirari to stop, but for some reason, a deeper part of her wanted to see it play out, to hear her say it.
Kirari set her tea cup down on the coffee table, “Is it possible, sister, that we aren’t the people we think we are at all?”
Ririka hated that she’d directed the question at her, like she’d be able to answer it. Was it possible? Yes. Likely? There was no way to know. Did it even matter?
Ririka stared at her sister. The name Kirari. People knew it. Like the name Momobami, it held status all its own. What if she herself actually was Kirari? Would that really change anything?
Something deep inside her answered back with a resounding yes.
Kirari had been chosen from the start: the face, the name, the status.
Ririka was just the observer, the secret.
There was really only one identity between the two of them: Kirari Momobami.
If that was actually her name, if she wasn’t Ririka, she’d actually be the persona, the identity. It would no longer be a part she temporarily got to play. She’d be living it.
Laughter broke through the silence, Kirari’s laughter, harsh and breathy.
Ririka whipped her head up. Was her sister laughing at her? How cruel could she be? Before she could excuse herself, or work to hide her trembling lip, Kirari’s laugh died down.
“I feel ridiculous admitting this, but sometimes...I wish I were you, Ririka.” Her sister admitted plainly, much to Ririka’s surprise.
“You do?”
Kirari met her eyes, her own willful and calm. It was the truth. She leaned back against the couch, “You already get to be me.” She said with a shrug, “It seems unfair that I rarely get to return the favor.”
Ririka looked down at her tea. What was the point of wanting to switch into Ririka’s position? That was tantamount to full identity erasure. Kirari wouldn’t want that if she truly understood what it meant...how it felt.
Across from her, Kirari pulled at one of her braids, “It’s truly a waste. My talents being restricted on a role that’s so one-note...” She said with a smirk, gesturing to herself.
Ririka pursed her lips. A cleverly placed joke. She’d accept that, for now, if it meant this conversation could end, “Concert pianist, award-winning actress, the list of missed opportunities goes on...” She quipped back, running her hand down her cheek, feigning one of Kirari’s mannerisms.
Her sister merely smiled in response, eyes moving to fall on her aquarium.
A moment passed.
“Where’s your secretary today?” Ririka asked as she picked up her tea and finally took a sip of it. Truthfully, she’d only resolved to take the glass just in case Kirari had any ideas about throwing something at her.
But her sister reacted coolly to the question, “Probably daydreaming about me...as she should be.”
Ririka put a hand over her mouth to hold back a laugh, “Yes, I’m sure she’s lounging somewhere, thinking of all the different ways she can murder you for giving 100 chips away to Mary Saotome.” She replied with a smirk.
Kirari’s eyebrows flickered in amusement, “She’s so unhappy about that. Part of me thinks she’s a bit jealous of Mary...”
Ririka tilted her head, “Why would she be?”
Apart from the obvious reasons, a voice in Ririka’s voice head added, before she could stop it.
Kirari shrugged, “I once told Mary she was very enigmatic...”
Ririka’s heart rate picked up as she scrambled to respond, “Must you flirt with every single girl you come across?” She asked, swallowing down the discomfort she felt knowing that her sister had a certain affinity for Mary Saotome.
Kirari took another sip of tea, “Not flirting, just an honest admission. Mary is enigmatic, but Sayaka is...well, she’s brilliant.”
Ririka sighed, although she was a bit relieved. Still, she knew her sister. Showing love wasn’t really one of her strong suits. Infatuation, attention, yes, but validation and support, unheard of. “You need to tell Sayaka that. If you don’t, she’s going to pace ruts in the floor.”
Kirari smirked at the thought, but didn’t reply to the notion. Letting a few moments pass, her eyes traced over the aquarium, “What do you think of Mary Saotome? You’ve been spending more time with her, havent you?”
Rirka had been expecting this question for a while now. Kirari was the one who had told her to team up with Mary after all. She kept her breath even, willed the redness not to come to cheeks, and stated the answer she’d rehearsed, “I’ve been giving Sayaka my notes and I know she’s been sharing them with you. I don’t really have much to add beyond them.”
Party true. Her notes were exceedingly precise, there really wasn’t much else to say...
Except for the fact that Mary was brilliant too. Not in the same way as Sayaka, not brilliant in the way that geniuses were (although Mary was very intelligent), but brilliant the way sun was on a scorching day.
Her passion burned through any room she was in and her courage, even when she was completely terrified, even when she was faced with insurmountable odds, it always won out. She was fearless, easily prone to outbursts, and admittedly, terrifying.
But none of those opinions were particularly scientific assessments, so she kept them to herself.
Luckily, Kirari had been too wrapped up in pouring more tea that she hadn’t been looking at Ririka, who was sure her expression had faltered for a moment. Her sister just shrugged, “I want to hear it from you.” She responded, “Do you find her enigmatic?”
Ririka thought through the meaning of the word in its fullest extent, and then looked her sister in the eye, “Yes. I believe that she is.”
Kirari smirked, obviously pleased that her sister agreed with her assessment, and then she moved on without another thought, musing more about the election and her “aquarium,” as she always did.
Ririka listened to her, she always did. But today, every now and then, she let her eyes drift up to the clock, willing the final bell to ring.
Mary trailed lazily behind Yumeko and Itsuki as they excitedly discussed which new teas they were going to try.
At the sight of how excited Itsuki was about the new location, Mary let a slight smirk come to her face.
Other students stared at them as they walked by. This wasn’t exactly new, especially for Yumeko, but ever since the election had started, it seemed to have gotten much worse. People’s eyes gravitated towards Yumeko. They idolized her. They probably thought she was going to overthrow Kirari, that she would be their next president, and for good reason. Based on her gambling skills, there was honestly a pretty good chance that Yumeko would make it all the way to the end.
As for Mary, when other students rested their eyes on her, some of them also stared, and then lowered their heads. Was that respect? Admiration? Fear? What did they expect out of her? Did anyone think she would win?
She could have driven herself insane with those thoughts, so she just sighed and forced them back below the surface, tuning back into the conversation happening ahead of her.
In an particularly fitting moment, Mary heard Yumeko suggest they ask the cashier to choose a tea at random.
As she did, Mary noticed Ryota smile to himself. Could he be any more obvious with his feelings? It seemed he was always thinking about Yumeko, blindly supporting her, admiring her. It could have come off as creepy or pathetic, but she found it oddly sweet.
When was the last time she’d let herself care about someone like that? She swallowed, thinking of the hair clip that she knew was burning a hole in the outer pocket of her bag. That was why she didn’t get close to people anymore, that was why caring about people was foolish...
Suddenly, Yumeko whipped around to face them, putting one of her hands on Ryota’s shoulder. He stopped walking instantly, as if he’d been struck by lightning, “What will you two order?” She asked, eyes deep and kind, as always.
If Yumeko noticed Ryota trying to stammer out an answer, she didn’t show it. Instead, she had her eyes trained on Mary.
Mary stared back. Why did every moment of their friendship feel like a power struggle? She rolled her eyes, trying desperately to take some power back, even though she wasn’t even sure Yumeko had meant to take it, “No idea, but I bet Ryota’s in for your gamble.” She raised her eyebrows, turning to the boy.
He shot her an uneasy glance, but it quickly faded into a placating smile as Yumeko chirped with excitement, “Really?”
He shrugged, “Sure, I’m in!” He said, as if it were the most important move he’d ever made.
“I can’t wait!” Yumeko exclaimed as she leaned forward and squeezed his arm enthusiastically.
Ryota looked just about ready to pass out, nervous sweat glistening across his face.
Mary watched him, raising an eyebrow. Poor guy.
Ahead of them, Itsuki turned around too, “Keep it moving, guys!” She exclaimed, jokingly, but her smile quickly faded as her eyes moved to something behind them.
Whatever it was, Yumeko saw it too. Her smile didn’t fade like Itsuki’s, instead, it gained that unsettling layer to it...the one she added whenever there was a game to be played.
Mary tensed, having a feeling she knew what she was going to see when she turned around. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that the hallway was almost completely clear of students, save for one, slowly and silently making her way towards them.
Mary glanced back at her friends, “Go on. I’ll catch up.”
Ryota, as sensitive as ever, kept his eyes trained on her, “Are you sure?” He asked, his uneasiness seeping out of him and threatening to spread into her like a virus.
Mary turned, crossing her arms over her chest, “Don’t patronize me.” She said humorlessly as she walked away from him.
Very quietly, she heard a small voice behind her ask, “Did I say the wrong thing?”
That got him a light laugh from Yumeko, but she didn’t have a chance to give him a response before Itsuki urged them on.
Mary kept her eyes steady as she and the Vice President approached each other. A collision felt imminent. Was this a game of chicken? Who would falter? Who walked with more confidence? Who was really in charge?
Before Mary could give it another thought, she got her answer.
With no warning or indication at all, the Vice President stopped in her path. She brought her hands together carefully in front of her, and then waited, like a dutiful servant.
Mary continued approaching, but decided to experiment. How much power did she really have? Moving to the side, she stepped past the Vice President, and walked up to a nearby window. When she reached it, she turned around and leaned her back against the sill.
The Vice President corrected immediately, joining Mary in her new position, without a word, without a question.
So she really was the one in control.
For some reason, the power didn’t feel as satisfying as she thought it would.
Mary sighed, glancing out towards the courtyard before gazing into the dead eyes of the mask, “What’s up?”
“I thought you might gamble today.”
Mary crossed her arms again and shook her head, “The game with Miyo and Miri was only a few days ago. I want to lay low for now.”
The Vice President didn’t move, “The election is only 30 days long.”
Mary pushed some hair over her shoulder offhandedly, “Yeah, yeah.” She said carelessly, “Let’s face it. At this school, most of the votes are going to be exchanged in the last 10 days anyway.”
That earned her a hard stare from the Vice President. The mask always had a hard look, but this one felt especially charged.
Mary blinked, unamused. Pushing off of the window sill, she moved a bit closer to the Vice President, “I would have thought this concept was pretty obvious to someone like you, but I guess I have to explain...” She said quietly, “If this really is an aquarium, then making too much noise too early, all it does is get you devoured quicker.”
The Vice President fidgeted. It seemed like she wanted to move away from Mary, like she was uncomfortable with how close together they were, but they needed to keep this quiet.
“Right now, we don’t need to be targeted. We need to gather votes quietly...gain strength, gain confidence, until the moment comes when we finally attack.” Mary couldn’t keep the intensity from reaching her voice. Leaning even farther forward, she grabbed the Vice President by the jacket. She had no intention of wasting time in this election, no intention of being a fool, didn’t the Vice President see that? She would only play dangerously when she knew she could win.
“Attack…” The Vice President repeated back.
Mary tightened her grip, ambition burning inside of her, “Yes.” She said, with an overwhelming feeling of clarity and commitment, “We’re going to rip them all to shreds.”
A tense moment hung between them, one where the Vice President didn’t dare move or speak.
Satisfied, Mary let go of her and stepped back, “But first, you have to prove yourself, remember?”
The Vice President took a small step back too, obviously a bit stunned by the interaction.
Mary smirked at the sight, imagining the face that she knew was under the mask, “We’ll start in a few days.” She said definitively, before turning away from the Vice President, and beginning to walk away. Distantly, she wondered if the other woman was watching her leave, what she was thinking…
In the same instant, she heard the monotone voice again, “Okay.” It said, and it could have all ended there, but then a quiet addition followed, “Have a good afternoon, Mary.”
She almost stopped walking at the words. They sounded robotic, as they always did, but when she thought of the girl under the plastic again, her chest tightened.
But she kept walking. She didn’t turn.
If she did, she’d be admitting something that she didn’t want to...
Maybe she isn’t a freak.