Midori had her nose buried in a particularly sweet Shoujo-Ai manga. She was blushing, and smiling, and she would be beyond embarrassed if anyone saw her like this. She walked slowly, her eyes focused on the story that was being told as she passed through the campus courtyard. She never stopped reading, or stopped to consider that there might be someone in her path along the way. She turned the page, brushed a sakura petal that had fallen from one of the trees and into her book. Still, her eyes never left her manga. It was when she was getting to a particularly good part, that she felt herself bump into something, and heard the sound of dishes clattering.
Her peace was utterly demolished, just as she was about to take yet another sip of her tea something, or someone, bumped into her. The cup in her hands slipped out of her light grip and went falling down. She tried to catch it but she moved too slow and barely graced it. Some of the tea spilled right on her skirt and and the cup landed on the ground, the remaining tea soaking into the ground. Heartbroken she could only stare at the mess in shock, not registering the hot tea that had spilled on her lap. "My tea..." She muttered softly, as it slowly sunk into her mind that her prized tea had been spilled she grew upset. It had been expensive!
The hot tea splashed onto the page of the book she was reading, tainting the art and smudging the ink. Midori didn't care that the hot liquid has managed not to touch her at all. "My...my book!" Midori exclaimed at almost the same time as the person she bumped into. She shook the tea from her manga, and put her hands to her hips angrily. She could see now the red-head in front of her, who would have been cute had she not gotten in the way. "Your tea?! There are billions of leaves in the world, but this- this is art! Nobody cares about your crummy tea!"
Crummy?! She had saved up for it for months! Picking up the cup and screwing it back in place on the thermos she tried to keep her anger in check. She rose and glared at the tomboy standing in front of her, her old habit kicked in as she saw the short-haired girl holding a manga. "You are a lost cause if you think that is art." Her voice was laced with a proud arrogance as she faced the tomboy. "My tea is not crummy and clearly more worth than that manga you're holding." No one called the results of her hard work crummy, no one.
Midori pursed her lips tight in annoyance, her cheeks flashed the color of red and her face was getting hot. How dare this...red thing, insult her taste in manga! "OH? You want to have a go at it then?" Midori asked, completely serious about challenging this girl to a duel. Trash talking Midori always warranted a beat down. She leaped backwards and landed firmly on the ground. Magical swirls rose from the earth, dancing and twirling around her form. She was going to transform, and show this chick who was boss.
But then, as she raised her hand in the air and prepared to shout towards the sky, a voice cut in. She saw a shadow looming over her, a familiar shadow with long flowing hair. "Saito-San, Moriyama-san!? What are you two doing?" It was odd that the Principle would know these first year students' names, but she had a photographic memory, and so she remembered everyone that attended her academy.
"M-Mizuno-san," Midori stammered, quickly dropping her hand to her side. She backed away in shock, and then ran for it. Mizuno-san didn't chase her, she had succeeded in preventing a fight and that was all that mattered.
As the other girl had started her sequence Kureha readied her stance, ready to transform if the girl went through with her challenge. It wasn't needed as the principal appeared.
"Principal..." As soon the the short-haired girl was gone she let go of her tension and felt a tear welling up. Not only had her tea been spilled, it had been insulted and her bad habit had kicked in. Quickly wiping away the emerging tear she gave a light bow to the blue haired principal. "I'm sorry. If you excuse me I need to wash up."
Not waiting for the principal to say anything further she turned and left carrying the thermos, at last feeling the burn of tea, sorrow of her lost enjoyment and anger at the battle-ready short-haired girl that had been the cause of it all. She would never forget this.
