Tearha: Deck of Clover

Chapter Twenty-Five: Conceal, Part One

They were in the Winter Gardens. A wide open area that was plains for most of the year but blooms with winter flowers in the cold season. White bellblossoms, blue skintililacs, and an random array of teal and cyan petals littered the ground amidst blankets of white. Tunnel entrances to underground cafes poked out of the landscape like holes springpigs dug. People went in and out at pace, with more circling the garden, enjoying the seasonal scenery.

She was shaking in her boots. Her white coat blended neatly into the snowy court.

"Are you cold?" Ishumi asked. "We could wait inside."

"I don't think it's cold I'm feeling," Shjacky replied with a smile. Her umbrella was opened over head, keeping the falling drizzle of snow from piling on their heads. "Though it definitely isn't helping."

They waited on a bench that sat under a coniferous tree. Shjacky had her jaws clenched and could here her heart beating. For all her training, nothing ever prepared her for a situation such as that. How could it? Despite the brutality of her upbringing, she was restricted by her age to subjects her handler could teach her. There was only so much time for so many things. But she need to play it calmly. As cool as the weather around her. She clenched her fists for strength.

Ishumi began, "I don't think I've ever heard you talk about your mother."

"I haven't. I think only Quinton and Four-Chan knows anything about her."

"Why so secretive?"

She did not reply, and Ishumi did not dig further.

"But," Shjacky began, catching her friend's attention. "You need to tell them about what we are doing today. I have a feeling it's going to be important."

"What are we doing? You make it seem like a dangerous mission."

Again, Shjacky kept quiet on the subject and they turned to their mutual friend of silence once again.

Shjacky found it strange with Ishumi. They were not very far apart in terms of what they consider their personalities. But unlike the latter, Shjacky's greatest wish was to break out of her shell. To speak with as many people as possible and not be thrown back into the small circle of her previous life. Yet, Ishumi seemed content with the tiny group of people she loved, never needing to expand that horizon. Alone together, they rarely spoke. Perhaps it was because they realized there was no need to. In a way, Shjacky felt comfortable revealing her underlining self to the quiet, dark haired girl.

"Over there," Ishumi pointed out. "Isn't that just pompous?"

She turned to the direction. Coming into the park was a small procession. With golden trimmed red umbrellas above her head and guards at her side, the Janus of Wendereight strolled through the gardens. Torch bearers held flames around her, keeping the cold away.

The Janus was a striking older woman. Though her face was wrinkled, they were not sagging, instead stretching to a graceful age. Her hair was the colour of gold, braided and looped aside her bangs. Her eyes were cold silver that glazed into the distance. Like her procession, she was overdressed for the occasion. A gold-red robe adorned her body, stretching to the ground. Brown fur at the hem swept snow away from her feet.

As the two girls stared, the Janus gloated through the garden of her status, turning heads and eyes. Slowly, the world leader approached the bench in which they sat on, after which, the Janus stopped and looked down the path ahead their portside, not meeting the two girls' gaze.

"How presumptuous of you," the woman spoke with icy blades of elegance. "To call me out here into the rabble."

Shjacky almost spat as she replied, "Hello to you too, mother."