Internet-Degenerate

Fun fact: It turns out the stickers you get on fruits aren't actually edible.

The waltz had finished, so I picked up Matilda's delicate but surprisingly muscular body and carried her back to the corner. 

"Is she okay?" Chloe worriedly asks me upon my arrival. 

"Doubt it," I answer her. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Sister Clementine walking towards us with a sense of urgency. 

"Did she faint?" she asked me.

"Yeah."

"She looks awfully pale," she mulled, placing the back of her hand on Matilda's forehead. "She doesn't seem to have a fever... Could be anaemia. At any rate, did she appear to be very nervous?"

"Yeah," I tell her, again. This time, I try to add something of value. "It looked like she was in a state of hyperarousal. I must've triggered some kind of past trauma."

"No," Sister Clementine assured me with a smile. "This kind of thing happens quite often, to be honest. Usually when girls are facing their beloved Amie."

"...Huh," I utter. Although in this case, it's just because I'm a scary man. "They just faint?"

"Really, anaemia is just a mild form of it," she tells me. "In my day, they got nosebleeds like fountains."

"No they didn't," I refute her statement. "In no universe do arousals cause nosebleeds. Ever." In response to my comments, Sister Clementine smiled at me as if I were just a naïve child who still believed in Santa, and she didn't have the courage to tell me that he wasn't real. She clearly knows something I don't. Are nosebleeds really a symptom of arousal? No... No it definitely isn't... is it? "Um... Anyway," I ignore the topic. "Should I take her to the nurse's office?" I'd been holding Matilda in my arms the entire we were talking. It's not a comfortable feeling. What if she wakes up and claws at my face again?

"We have mattresses laid out in the corner of the gym for just such occasions." Saying so, Sister Clementine points to a corner near the stage. Following her finger, I see Nina (who, for some reason, was wearing a tuxedo and rocking it better than I ever could) carrying a girl that had collapsed in her arms and laying her on a large, square gym mat. They really did have a mattress dedicated to fainting, huh? "Let's have her rest there."

"Yes, ma'am." 

Sister Clementine was gracious enough to lead me through the crowd and to the spot, where I laid Matilda down. As I did, I couldn't help but notice something about the girl that Nina brought over. The girl had a nosebleed. …She must've ran head first into the wall and knocked herself out. Maybe she just picked her nose too much. It's not like she danced with Nina and was aroused by it. Arousals don't cause nosebleeds. They don't. They just don't.

Trembling in disbelief, I slowly turn my gaze from the girl towards Sister Clementine. She wasn't smiling anymore. She looked down at me with a dead, omniscient expression. Those wide, vacant eyes of hers told me that the cause was exactly what I was hoping it wasn't.

"But... but... how?" I ask, my voice shaking in fear. "How does that even work?"

"Oh, my sweet summer child," Sister Clementine coldly, yet affectionately called me. "There are some questions in this world that are better left unanswered."

It was time for the Final Course second years to choose their partners. In other words: my turn. Who will it be, I wonder sarcastically. I opened the egg, and then written on the paper was, unsurprisingly, 'Rosalia Kirk.'

…Wait, 'Kirk?'

"Who was it?" Chloe asked me as I squint at the paper, trying to make sure I'm reading it properly.

"Hey, uh, how many people in this school are named Rosalia?" I stupidly ask. 

"How many do you think there are?" Chloe answered me. A stupid question deserves a stupid answer, so I don't blame her attitude. Rosalia is a very unique name.

"Oh my, you're really lucky!" Tabby says. "You get to dance with Belle Épine."¹'Beautiful Thorn.' Rosalia's title.

"Nope. This is not okay," I tell the two. I'm still tired after having danced twice in a row. There's no way I'd be able to keep up dancing with a professional right now.

"What are you all worried about?" Tabby asks me, as if I was fussing over nothing. I open my mouth to speak. "Wait. No. Don't answer that. It'll be fine. See? She's even looking your way. I thought she was acting strangely. She probably deduced it was her egg you found."

Sol made the announcement, and all the second years started to move. Among the tide of students, Rosalia's delicate pale body remained stock still, coldly staring straight at me. 

"It's rude to keep a lady waiting," Chloe told me. "Go, already!" She gave me a hard shove on the back as she left to find her partner, and I head across the hall over to Rosalia. 

"What's the matter?" Rosalia asked me upon my arrival. "It looked like she pushed you."

"Yeah, she did. Anyway, is this okay?" I ask her, scratching my cheek.

"To what do you refer?"

"Dancing with me."

"It is not okay."

"Are you going to do it anyway because the rules say you have to?"

"Naturally. I am a person who follows the rules."

"Alright then."

We took hands, took to the dance floor and began to dance the waltz. Rosalia, as expected, knew the dance very well. I, on the other hand... well, I was doing the best I could to keep up with her, okay? A few moments of uncomfortable silence pass between us as I desperately try improve my dance skills before Rosalia strikes up something akin to a conversation.

"...Seraph... please forgive me for earlier."

"What are you apologising for?" I ask, my mind half focused on the dance.

"...Your first dance partner... that was my elder sister."

"I see..." I mumble. I had already pieced two and two together earlier, so it didn't really come as a surprise.

"...Did she offend you in any way?" Rosalia asked me.

"Not at all..." I tell her.

"...But it was obvious that my sister did not find your Easter egg," she said, letting out a small sigh. "My sister is always like this. She was never one to respect the rules... It often gets her in trouble with the school, but it never seems to concern her. At some point, the teachers just seemed to give up... Really, I don't know what to do with her." She spoke the words indifferently, without a trace of anger or disappointment in her voice.

"So she's the problem child...?"

"...I suppose you could say that."

"But... she seemed like she'd be someone friendly and easy to talk to..."

"...Oh?" After hearing what I had to say about her sister, Rosalia's eyes widened a little. It took me a quick second to realise what that look meant, and I quickly elaborate on my statement.

"Ah, I didn't mean that you're hard to talk to, or anything like that..." I tell her. I thought I had cleared the little misunderstanding, but she still had the same look on her face. I guess I misunderstood what that look meant. I awkwardly clear my throat. "L-Look. She didn't leave a bad impression. There's nothing you need to apologise for."

"...I see," Rosalia muttered, her face relaxing into a small, genuine smile. There wasn't anything scary about it - if anything, it was absolutely precious and a most heavenly sight to behold - but the mere sight of it triggered my sympathetic nervous system. I feel my heart rate shoot up from the resting 54 bpm all the way up to 204, and my respiration rate increases with it. The increased blood flow is directed away from my stomach and towards my muscles, brain and limbs. Now I've got butterflies in my stomach and my muscles are so tense they're trembling, ready to fight or take flight at a moments notice. I stop dead in my tracks in the middle of the dance and try to calm myself down. "...What is it?" Rosalia reacted to my sudden panic with surprise.

I ignore her concern and let go of her hands. I shut my eyes tight, place both of my hands on my abdomen and straighten my posture. For four seconds, I breathe in as much air through my nose as I can and fill up my belly. For seven seconds, I hold my breath. After those seven seconds are up, I exhale through my mouth for eight seconds straight. I must look like a complete idiot to anyone who's watching, but I'd much rather that than risk a panic attack in the middle of a dance. 

"Sorry about that..." I apologise.

"...Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm fine." In an attempt to reinforce my statement, I hold out my hand to take hers. "Let's just keep dancing," I urge. It didn't matter how hard I tried to put on a confident show, since my hands were still trembling a little. Despite noticing this, Rosalia diffidently relented, and we continued waltzing. Just as we did at the start, we danced for a few moments in silence as I concentrated on dancing. This time however, despite my nerves, I had already improved. I was managing to keep up with Rosalia's dancing quite easily. But for some reason she spoke up again, shattering my focus.

"...If I may be honest," she spoke. "I never understood the chairwoman's or Sol's desire to bring in a sample of boys. However... You have brought a breath of fresh air to Vincennes. That much is absolutely true."

"...Mm-hmm..." I don't know why, but hearing her voice is making me flustered. So flustered in fact I had no idea what she just said. I just mumbled along in agreement.

"...At the least, you've had an affect on one person." Rosalia said something else, and her expression relaxed again. Just as I felt my fight-or-flight response trigger again, she turned her eyes to the side. I instinctively followed her gaze. As soon as I did, a shrill shriek filled the gymnasium, causing me to jump back in surprise.

"AMIE!" The voice screamed. The owner of the voiced was a petite girl who weaved dexterously through the crowd and towards us. I don't know who this little bitch with the wooden naginata is, but I'm going to fucking kill her for... for what, exactly? Why am I even mad? That's just Matilda being autistic. "Get away from him now, Amie!"

Rosalia closed her eyes and sighed. "For heaven's sake," she breathed. "What are you doing, Matilda?"

"That man is a devil!" Matilda yelled, ignoring Rosalia's question. "The leader of the devils, Beelzebub!"

Rosalia stared at her blankly. "...What are you talking about?"

Yet again, Matilda ignored her and continued speaking. At least this time she was quieter. "E-Even this uniform stained with blood, sweat and tears... it... could not protect my virtue! I've... I have been...!"

Even Rosalia's eyes went wide at that remark. "Your virtue? Do you even understand what you're saying? It appeared to me that you were failing to dance an ordinary waltz," she needlessly remarked.

"But Amie! Didn't you feel it?" Matilda was practically shrieking now. The orchestra had (in almost a comedic fashion) stopped playing, and the others were watching them with bated breath.

"...Feel what?" Rosalia asked, dumbfounded.

"W-Well, the... um... the... w-well," Matilda turned into a mumbling mess as she tried to find the right words. She was clearly thinking too hard to describe what Rosalia should be feeling. She gradually started turning red, and you could almost see the steam coming off of her. 

Then she fainted.

Again.

She fucking fainted again, are you fucking kidding me?

Give it back. Give me back my respect, damnit!