The Mouse's Defiance

    I did not come up with "Heart Heart High".
    I did not create Shiro, Moemi, Sayoko, the Troopers, or the situation.
    They were created by a glorious collaboration of talented writers, of whom I am not one.
    In short, I have no rights to this story whatsoever. Please enjoy it anyway.

Shiro let himself into the apartment.

"I'm home. Mum? I got the painkillers."

A groan from the back bedroom alerted him. His mother was obviously having an attack. He snagged a glass from the shelf, half-filling it with water from the tap, and carried it carefully into the room. Shaking out three tablets into one hand, he offered them and the glass to the woman lying on the bed.

"Here, Mum. These'll help."

Shiro watched his mother carefully as she half-sat-up to take the painkillers. With his own cinnamon-brown eyes and long brown hair, so like his sister's, she was still a very lovely woman.

Silently he damned his father yet again. No perky secretary, however young and genki, could ever match her quiet gentleness and subtle beauty. How he could have won her, married her, had children with her and then cast all his family away for a twenty-year-old secretary who, Shiro was convinced, had bright eyes because the sun was shining through the hole in the back of her head, was something he just couldn't understand. Why Asako had kept their father's name was something he couldn't comprehend either; he had changed his own to their mother's maiden name as soon as the divorce came through.

He couldn't blame his father for his mother's pain, but if he had been here, maybe Asako wouldn't have reacted the way she did. Maybe she would still be here. And he wouldn't have to... do... what he did.

Shiro watched his mother's face as the effect of the tablets gently smoothed out the lines pain had etched there. She smiled at him gratefully as she slipped into sleep.

The doorbell chimed. Shiro nodded to himself as he stood to answer it. It was just after four-thirty; after-school clubs would have just finished. Maybe it was Asako...

It was Asako's best friend, Moemi. Shiro liked her; not a genki girl, but her company was soothing, she was really very pretty, in a subtle, understated way, and she was intelligent, coming out near the top of her grade. He didn't know why she had so little self-confidence.  She was loyal, too. She had been the only one to keep on being Asako's friend, after Saiyko's rivalry with Asako had heated up.

Judging by the way her face fell, she probably had been hoping he would be Asako, as much as he had been hoping she would be.

"Uh - hello, Shiro-san," Moemi said softly. "Is Asako-chan here?"

Shiro could hear the emotions under the words, the 'has she come home?' and the 'is she better yet?' that Moemi had not said.

"I'm sorry," I can't tell you what I want to hear myself, "but no, Asako hasn't returned here yet."

"Oh," Moemi whispered, glancing down. She clenched her hands together in front of her, then glanced up again. "How is your mother today, Shiro-san?"

"She has good days and bad days, Moemi-san. Today is not a good day."

"Oh. I - I'm sorry to hear that." Moemi looked down again, swallowed, and glanced up again.  That was a new habit, Shiro noted. He'd heard that Saiyko's little troopers were targeting a new girl; it looked like Moemi had too. They both knew the way Saiyko used him to break the new girls. "Thank you, Shiro-san," Moemi murmured, turning to leave.

"Goodbye, Moemi-san," Shiro replied absently, turning away and closing the door.

Moemi sighed as she walked away from the apartment.

Shiro-san was just so handsome! Not, of course, that he'd ever look at her. But still, he was really nice.

Not many people saw that side of him. All they saw was the cold, emotionless facade he put up in public, and all they heard about were the actions Saiyko forced him into.

Moemi, however, had seen Shiro-san around Asako-chan and heard about him from her, and had a different picture - of a reserved young man who cared deeply for his family and his Art.  A young man for whom Moemi had developed a hopeless crush.

She smiled as she drifted into her favourite daydream - where Shiro-san confessed to her that he was in love with her, she confessed her love to him, and they fell into each others' arms, lips meeting in a passionate kiss...

The fantasy always came to a crashing halt right then, because Moemi, being completely inexperienced, had utterly no idea what came next.

But she would love Shiro-san to help her find out...

Down, girl! He's Asako-chan's brother!

Moemi frowned, pulling her jacket tighter. While lost in her fantasy, she'd wandered into Saiyko's territory. She hadn't dared tell Shiro-san that, now that Asako-chan was gone, as Asako-chan's friend, she was Saiyko's latest target.

I mustn't give in to her. I mustn't. Asako-chan didn't, so I mustn't. I have to keep my head down and not let her think I'm a threat. I can't fight her, I must survive her, Moemi chanted to herself. It didn't make her feel any better.

She stiffened as she heard a soft footstep behind her.

"Well, well, well."

Moemi turned to see three of Saiyko's Troopers standing behind her. The one who had spoken was the new girl, Sumire-san. She had just come to Heart Heart High two weeks before, joined the Troopers the first day, and a week ago had been named Saiyko's second in command.

The look in her eyes sent a shiver Moemi couldn't repress down the back of her spine. Her eyes were flat and chilling. As Moemi stepped back away from the trio, they flashed with the most terrifying emotion Moemi had ever seen.

Pleasure.

But what really terrified Moemi was the knowledge that Sumire-san's dark joy sprang from causing Moemi's fear.

"Leaving us so soon?" Sumire-san asked, her tone silky with false sadness. Then her voice hardened as she continued, "I think not." She gestured with her left hand, and Moemi felt a sudden burst of pain spreading from the back of her skull. The world began to fade into blackness as the pavement rushed up to meet her...

Shiro put the finishing touches on the okonomiyaki he'd just finished frying up for himself.  He really wasn't that good a cook; where a professional okonomiyaki chef's product would be round and smooth and delicious-looking, his was... not.

Edible and tasty, though, he thought with satisfaction as he brought the one he'd already cooked in to his mother's bedside. And what more does one ask of one's dinner?

He'd just finished rinsing his dish when the doorbell chimed.

One of Saiyko's Troopers was standing on the doorstep. "Saiyko-sama requires you," she said shortly, turning to go.

Shiro shrugged and snagged up his jacket. Another day, another girl. He followed the girl down the hall, feeling a brief pang of sympathy for Saiyko's latest victim, whoever she was.

The two walked down the city streets in the sunset, their faces blank and their posture stiff.  Neither appeared to notice the curious looks they were drawing as they walked into the wealthier part of town.

A security guard stopped them at the gate of Saiyko's family estate. The Trooper gave their names to the guard in an expressionless tone and they both were waved through the gate.

Walking into the foyer of the mansion, Shiro waited for the Trooper to direct him. She pointed him towards one of the reception rooms off the foyer. Walking in, Shiro let his gaze sweep the room.

Saiyko and her merry band of blackmailers stood in a half-circle around a divan. Shiro counted three - no, four cameras among them. Yep, the old tried-and-true embarrass-into-submission tactic. He knew his role - the girl would be dressed in atypically revealing clothing and he had to appear as if they were sexually involved. Same old same old, ho-hum, next please. He felt another pang of sympathy for his unwitting partner, and wondered what she'd done to acquire Saiyko's ire.

The girl who'd been arranging the victim stood up, moving away from the divan, revealing a long fall of fine chocolate hair. Shiro blinked in shock as he looked down at Moemi's unconscious face.

She was pale, dressed in a shocking-pink tubetop that looked as if it had been intended for a ten-year-old before it had been shrunk in the wash and a black microminiskirt that only a small crease revealed to be cloth and not body paint.

Lying there, dressed in clothing that would make a whore blush, she had never looked more vulnerable. Her long lashes swept the hollows of her cheeks, and her shallow breath was soft on Shiro's cheek. Her creamy skin shone against the dark purple velvet of the divan, highlighting the delicate curves of her slender form, usually hidden by the modest clothing she wore.

Shiro had thought himself inured to the sight of vulnerable teenage girls. Looking at Saiyko, he was grateful for his mask. If she had realized his moment of weakness...

Bending down, he touched his lips to Moemi's. He knew what to do, and how to do it, so Saiyko could get her pictures in a minimum of time. He couldn't dwell on Moemi's lips, or on how they were somehow sweeter than any other lips he'd tasted; he couldn't think about how her breath was sweet in his mouth, when the breath of other girls was rank with the daily scents of food, digestion and anaesthesia. He couldn't think of how her body seemed to yield to his as he moved her into position.

He put it all out of his mind, and simply obeyed Saiyko's wishes.

Moemi woke with a thumping headache.

She rolled over, and found herself face to face with her alarm clock.

The last thing she remembered was Sumire's smirk and a spreading pain...

How did I get home?

Dressing absently, she puzzled the problem over at breakfast.

"What nice friends you have, dear," her mother said, as she picked up the breakfast bowls.

"Friends, Mother?"

"Yes, that Sumire-chan and Saiyko-chan. Such nice girls. They were very kind to bring you home after you collapsed in the street. I think I'd better make you an appointment for the doctor-"

"No, Mother!" Then, as her mother stared at her oddly she hastily continued, "I - I passed out from - from hunger! I - some bullies took my lunch, and the cafeteria was closed by the time I got there -"

"Bullies! Moemi-chan, if there are bullies who steal lunches at school-"

"Don't worry, Mother! I know how to avoid them! It won't happen again. My lunch is safe."  I'm just not too sure about me...

"If you're sure, Moemi-chan..." her mother began dubiously.

"I'm sure, Mother. You have no need to worry." Liar! Liar!

Walking to school, Moemi hoped nothing had happened. She hoped that Saiyko had gotten her kicks out of knocking her out and dragging her home. She really, really hoped that Saiyko hadn't set up any of those horrible photos she used on other girls.

Something had happened, she could tell. The way a group would be gossiping and suddenly stop as she walked past. The way the boys were all grinning at her. The frown the teacher directed at her, personally. But what?

Halfway through English class, she found out.

Moemi had recently come to love English class. The language was so complicated and contradictory (how only twenty-six letters and ten commonly-used punctuation symbols could combine in so many weird ways was amazing) that she had to really concentrate on it, leaving her no time to worry about Saiyko and whatever she'd managed to do. But today she couldn't concentrate on the assignment, so busy was she, trying to work out what was going on. When the white envelope landed on her desk, she propped her English text open on top of the desk, to shield her actions from the sight of the teacher, and opened it immediately.

She stared at the images before her - what was she wearing, body paint? She didn't own anything like that. Then she realized what was happening in the pictures - and who else was there.

The sight before her, of Shiro-san touching her, holding her, kissing her...

Moemi tumbled off her seat into a dead faint.

"Is Sleeping Beauty awake yet?"

Moemi blinked up at the ceiling, as the haze over the world lifted and cleared. She moved her head to the side, to see Saiyko and a selection of the Troopers on the school infirmary's other bed.

"Why?" she asked muzzily. "What did I ever do to you?"

Saiyko frowned. "We're showing you the error of your ways, Moemi! Simply renounce your loyalty to that silly Asako, swear yourself to me, and join my followers. You won't even have to cut your hair."

"... no."

"It's a life of friendship and ease, all of us supporting each other - what did you say?!?"

Moemi closed her eyes and replied, louder this time, "I said, 'no'. I don't want to."

Saiyko paused, drawing in a deep breath, then exploded. "Moemi, you silly, silly girl! How can you say no to me, the great, the beautiful Saiyko! We've given you a chance to join us, to associate with me, to join the greatest group that ever lived! This chance isn't offered to everyone, and if you turn us down, you will regret it!"

"...no," Moemi whispered again. Her head was pounding, her reputation was in tatters, her teachers thought she was a, a, a woman of loose morals, and Shiro-san...

Shiro-san...

Shiro-san had kissed her, and he...

He hadn't sought her out, he hadn't told her, he hadn't responded...

Her dream broke into tiny jagged shards that tore their way through her chest, as she realized that he didn't care.

"...no," Moemi whispered, staring at the ruins of her world. There was only one thing left, only one thing that was still true: she couldn't surrender to Saiyko.

"I'll make you change your mind," Saiyko promised grimly, flouncing out of the room. Moemi was left staring at the ceiling through dry eyes, too devastated even to cry.

Shiro skipped all his classes that week.

Not, of course, that such a thing was unusual for him. There were rumours that he was a college graduate or a genius; he would enroll on a class, show up for the test, and get an A.  (Or a B, when class attendance was part of the assessment.)

However, he could not forget the afternoon he had... participated in... with Moemi. Most times, he had no difficulty putting the experience behind him.

But this was the first time he knew the girl. The first time she was a friend. The first time he knew why it was happening.

And for the first time, Shiro felt ashamed.

Moemi had trusted him, and he had not kept that trust. He had obeyed Saiyko, and now Moemi was paying the price. A price that was keeping him awake at night, remembering how good and sweet she'd felt in his arms, and how now she was being painted as anything but.

But his mother needed those painkillers! He had to do it. He had to, to get those things.

If he had been able to explain the situation to Moemi, she would have understood. She was good at that. She would have understood and forgiven him.

He clung to that. He had to. Or go insane from lack of sleep.

The next week, for Moemi, was Hell.

Her refusal to abandon Asako had already distanced the other girls from her, as they had withdrawn from Asako one by one. Neither Moemi nor Asako had blamed them; it was simple self-preservation, after all. Moemi had never been close friends with any of them anyway, too shy to make contact. The only one she had really considered a friend had been Asako.

She couldn't face Shiro-san. When he had been Asako's elder brother, the handsomest boy at school, and a distant object she might reach to someday, she had been able to be friends with him. Now, however, she knew she would never be able to reach him. Had it happened in happier times, it would have felt almost too great to be borne. Now, it was simply the saddest and most painful part of the saddest and most painful time she'd ever endured in her life.

To face the rumours alone was agony, but the torments were almost worse. Every day, she had her homework stolen, she was tripped constantly, she was pushed and shoved so that she became almost supernaturally clumsy and her lunch was somehow spoiled so she had to starve.

Each day, Saiyko would repeat her condecending little offer.

Each day, Moemi would refuse.

Each day, refusal was becoming harder.

Six days later, Saiyko called an emergency session of the Troopers.

"That - that Moemi peasant is humiliating us with her refusal to join us!"

The Troopers nodded. They had learned the hard way that it was always better to agree with Saiyko.

"We must teach her a lesson!"

Nods all round again.

"What can we do, Saiyko-sama?" asked Sumire. "She's just not surrendering!" If there was a note of admiring pride in Sumire's voice, Saiyko did not hear it.

"I have heard some people saying that kissing a handsome boy - and even dressing up in that sort of clothing for him - is understandable. We need to place her beyond the pale, where that peasant deserves to be!"

The Troopers didn't nod this time. They were all too busy shuddering.

Moemi sighed as she opened her locker on Saturday afternoon, to put away the last of her books and get her outdoor shoes. She was so relieved that the torture school had become was over for another week that she didn't hear the Troopers sneaking up behind her. The first and last she knew of it was the short, swift pain of the sandbag cosh impacting on her head.

Shiro looked up to see the Trooper standing in front of him.

"Saiyko-sama requires you," was all she said.

Shiro got up and followed her, with a sinking feeling. Saiyko had been concentrating solely on Moemi for the past week. What could she possibly need him for?

"No," Shiro said.

"What?" asked Saiyko, flummoxed.

"If the original photos didn't do it, a second set won't. Besides," he added, lowering his voice, "my set fee doesn't cover nudity."

"A full bottle," Saiyko offered.

"Nope. You have no guarantees it won't impact badly on my reputation."

"How much lower could it go?" one of the faceless Troopers muttered to another. Fortunately for her, neither her leader nor the youth heard her.

"One and a half!"

Cicadas chirped ominiously in the background (partly because it was still daylight, and partly because it was spring). One of the faceless Troopers (not the same one as before) grabbed at another faceless Trooper's hand (again a different one) and snatched the cicada-imitator she held. "Do you want to get us killed?" she hissed.

"I work cheap, but not that cheap."

Saiyko took a deep breath. "Three full bottles, and 25 000 yen."

Shiro considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Deal."

Shiro and Saiyko entered the quiet reception room. Saiyko turned to lock the door behind them, while Shiro quickly stripped.

As Saiyko seemed to be taking an inordinately long time with the doors, Shiro moved over to the divan where the unconscious, naked Moemi lay. Looking down at her, he felt a sudden sense of revulsion.

No. No. I can't do this.

As Saiyko turned back to the room, he heard the rattle of the tablets in their bottle in the pocket of her skirt. The memory of his mother, her frail helplessness and her unwilling dependence, came rushing back.

Ice. Like when I was learning the Art. Discipline. Discipline.

He sat down on the divan and looked over at Saiyko. "Well? Let's get this done." Gently gathering Moemi up in his arms, he was struck by her fragility.

So like Mum... Ice, damnit. Ice. I'm numb.

He heard the camera click and shifted position. Moemi's body slid against his own, and he was forcibly reminded of her quiet beauty, so unlike Saiyko's - or even Asako's. But very like his beautiful mother's.

Ice. Ice. I'm numb. I'm numb...

Moemi woke slowly. Her head was pounding.

Oh, great. They got me again.

She rolled over, and blinked. She didn't own a purple ruffled pillow.

"Good evening, Moemi!"

She lifted her head to look at Saiyko, sitting at the end of the bed. Saiyko's eyes danced gleefully as Moemi's heart sank. I'm doomed. I just can't hold out anymore. I can't...

"I must say that you photograph extremely well, Moemi! OH-HO-HO-HO-HO!" Saiyko chortled as she held up a photo.

Moemi blanched as she saw the picture. Herself. Naked. Being held by an equally naked... Shiro-san.

The world narrowed in, focused on the image Saiyko was holding up for her to see. Moemi couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't blink.

I never... swam up through the mass of shock. I never... I never...

"Dear me, what will the people say when they all see this?" Saiyko asked retorically. "That 'nice girl' image of yours will be shattered forever! OH-HO-HO-HO-HO!"

Moemi swallowed. Shiro-san... hates me. Asako-chan... must hate me, or she'd have contacted me by now. I - I can't take it anymore.

"What - do you want?" she asked softly.

Saiyko smiled. "Why, surrender your loyalty to me and join my group. That's all I want."

Looking down, Moemi swallowed. She whispered so softly that Saiyko had to lean forward to catch the words. "I surrender."

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Saiyko leaned back and snapped her fingers. The Troopers filed in, filling the room. Sumire-san, in the lead, held a pair of sissors, the big, heavy shears used by haberdashery shops to cut lengths of cloth from bolts for customers. The others took up positions around Moemi.

Saiyko nodded, and they all gripped her arms and legs, holding her down. Sumire-san handed Saiyko the sissors.

"As a mark of respect for your loyalty, even if it was misplaced, I'll cut your hair myself," Saiyko told her, advancing. "You should be proud, that I give you such an honour, even before you earn it."

Moemi bowed her head and said nothing, as the shears began to clip. She bit her lip until the blood flowed, to stop the tears from flowing.

Slouching against the school gate, Shiro watched the students of Heart Heart High entering the school Monday morning, to begin another week of stress, homework and detention avoidance.

Saiyko and her little train of followers were approaching. Saiyko flashed a grin of triumph at him, and her coterie reacted to him in various ways. Some smiled at him, others nodded.

The last one in the train did not. Moemi was looking at her feet, at the scenery, carefully not even glancing at him. Shiro studied her from under his eyelashes. She was pale and her eyes were big with sadness. Her new, chin-length haircut suited her, Shiro thought, highlighting her cheekbones and drawing attention to her expressive eyes. Not, of course, that Saiyko or any of the bores of schoolboys who thought they were experts on female beauty would see the quiet loveliness that Saiyko's cruelty had brought out.

They walked past, and Moemi did not once glance at him.

Shiro continued to slouch against the gate as she walked away.

She had not once looked at him.

Shiro felt a cold spread from the pit of his stomach through his nerves. The pool of sunlight he rested in was suddenly chillier than a blizzard. His expression did not change as he watched her walk away.

Not genki, not cute, but graceful in her subtle movements and beautiful to those who looked for beauty. Moemi was walking away from him. And she would never look back.

He drew his discipline around him, a cloak against the cold he felt engulfing him, and sank into blessed numbness. Tonight would be soon enough for the pain.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

    1. This omake is meant to explore a few things that weren't explained in the main HHH story. Why did they have to do a nude shoot of Moemi, when every other girl was intimidated into submission with the cheesecake photos? Why did Saiyko say that Moemi was stubborn, when Asako claimed she'd just given in? Why are the other Troopers simply cowed into submission, but Moemi is almost completely broken? I also wanted to go into Shiro and Moemi's previous acquaintance, because Moemi, as Asako's best friend, would have been acquainted, at least, with him. I also wanted to go into why Shiro is so gentle with Moemi (he certainly isn't with Yuki) and why he and Asako have different surnames.

    2. I know that Shiro may appear very OOC in this omake, but I've tried to emphasise that all the emotional bits are happening inside his head and that to the outside world, he's stoic and emotionless. I'm absolutely convinced that Shiro's emotionlessness is a facade; his sensitivity to Asako and his Christmas present to Gai shows that he is aware of others' feelings. He just doesn't show his own.

    3. Lest I be accused of making Moemi into a proto-Yuki in this omake, I'd like to reiterate that Moemi doesn't once fight back here. She's trying to endure, not defeat.