Summer had come. And summer sucked. It was hot. It was bright. It was unpleasant. The heat caused sweating, which led to chilling sensations despite the heat. Also, that led to stench. Amoretta loathed summer. Then again, the girl hated most seasons. And the outdoors. And just about anything that required her to leave her protective shell of fantasy. Despite that, she knew that keeping herself locked up would prevent her from getting refreshing ideas for her art. Only every once in a while did she find a perfect scene to screenshot and use as inspiration when playing games.

She had felt under the weather the last few days. It had not been too terrible, though. Chidori was gone, off to visit family, or something. A lot of the student body was, as well. It was because of the decreased headcount (and, thereby, chance of bumping into people), and the fact that she felt a bit better than she had the past few days, that she had decided to step outside and sketch. It hadn't taken the girl long to find a good vantage point somewhere on the campus. Getting comfortable was always a problem, but sandals, a yellow sundress and sleeved shawl, and a pasty white sun hat made the heat somewhat bearable. The pale misanthropist opted to ignore the fact that her pulse had picked up in the time she relocated and found a seat on the ground, though.

The reality before her was nothing more than a garden. The reality in her eyes, on the page, was something a bit more dream-like. Her strokes gradually became quicker and lighter before becoming stronger and more focused. Before her was day. On her paper was night. Flowers sprouted in the world's reality. In her reality, there were real living flowers- flower people. It was a banquet of fairies and flower-folk. Dryads, nymphs, alraune and fairies and elves and the like populated her picture one by one. The girl was so absorbed into her work that she did not realize her body's warning signs. No, rather than not realizing, she failed to acknowledge and act on them. Finishing her work was more important than the fact that her breathing had become rough and wheezy or the fact that her pulse had not relaxed, but, instead, had become steadily quicker and more bothersome.

Finally, shaky hands closed the sketchbook. Another addition to her book of fantasies had been completed. Slowly, she worked to stand. Then the world turned black. Had she gone blind? Her vision returned, though blurry. She felt cold. That was a warning sign in and of itself. She knew her body was probably baking, yet she felt as though she might as well have been thrust into the Strait of Dover during winter. Her legs felt numb. Her back didn't even hurt. Her voice escaped in a grunt. Had she really gotten this bad just by going outside? Or was her apparent wellness just a mistake to begin with? The latter seemed more likely.

She needed to get back to her room, back to her protective cage. She tried to move one leg, only to find herself dancing with gravity towards the ground. The waltz ended with a thump, as her glasses, book, and multiple sketch pencils flew, bounced, and sunk away into a blurry oblivion. Her vision had failed her again. Even if it hadn't, her sight had been blurry even with her glasses. Without them, she might as well have been blind in that situation, anyway. She gave up trying to reach for them. There was no telling where they, or her other tools, were. All she was accomplishing was getting dirt under her nails and making her body grow warmer by the second. Her breathing had become worse with her weight pressing down on her chest.

Her body felt distant at that point. Her consciousness was fading- slower than when she had bouts of anemia, that much was certain. Somewhere in the distance, she had heard footsteps crunching grass. In her mind, she decided one thing. The only good thing about this situation was that she probably would not wake up to feel like crap. She did not know who was coming near her, but they were human. There was no way they'd pass up the chance to snuff her out. She did not like the idea of dying- especially not in such a pathetic state, but, at the very least, she did not have to worry about being ill anymore.

Right?

Notes: A bit on the long side. You'll notice that the thread obviously isn't starting in the infirmary, but it is posted there. That's because I want her to be carried, dragged, carelessly dribbled, or otherwise transported there. Makes sense, anyway. It is open for one person, two if you can give me a good reason, but only for those still at Astraea Hill. Can be a student or a member of staff. Whoever it is gets to present Amoretta with an unexpected outcome of the situation. Silly little misanthropist. Might be nice to note that the person who moved her doesn't have to be in Lulim.

It was rather nice to stop and take in the quiet summer atmosphere of the campus; thanks to her sisters' influences, she had become accustom to stopping and the smelling the roses, figuratively and literally on a few occasions. Not that she didn't notice small nuances of her own accord, but still, she probably wouldn't have bothered to pause and admire the solace in the much-less-crowded space of the gardens surrounding the schools. Not when she was on her way to the Lulim section to visit Sayuri about a linked sociology project & lecture - apparently she needed some documents and equipment that were in the classroom, hence why they didn't just meet at the convent like usual.

Oh well, a little exercise never hurt.

It was unusual for Sayuri to do this though; then again, Izanami (thank the little gossip inside of her) had mentioned that she'd been in a different mood after their joint project and subsequent stumbling upon a rather stunning woman whom their sister-in-common seemed to be gravitating towards. Noriko couldn't help but grin at the thought of their flirty Riri finally being hit by the hammer of love. Especially when her own field of romance seemed to be getting mowed over every time. Perhaps she'd been a bit strong with the reclusive azure-haired counsellor? Oh well.

Turning on her heel, she spun around, her ballet flats crunching across the grass a little loudly, but who would hear, really? Best not to run things too late - even if it was her own sister, she'd be miffed if the Miatorian sensei didn't get a move on. Her brisk pace was bringing her close to the school building but she'd have to detour at the end to go around and back towards the actual path, considering she was a little of the track. The lack of students meant it was dead silent for the most part, making the distinct 'thump' noise even more apparent, despite her slightly distracted awareness.

"What on earth...?" Brows furrowing a little, the brunette followed the sound, happening upon the source, and quite quickly setting into a frantic state - a girl was collapsed on the ground, things scattered around her. Before she could actively think about it, Noriko set into motion, kneeling beside the girl. Gentle nudging and words didn't seem to gather any response - she must've been unconscious, a really bad sign. Her eyes flickered to the nearby building; the schools all had infirmaries, and as far as she was aware, the nurses were still working through the summer. If they weren't there...she'd have to just call an ambulance, but the infirmary was still a better bet right now.

Scrambling around, she gathered up the girl's things - pencils and a book, and placed them in a pile out of the way; no one was likely to take them that way and she could come back after to pick them up and return them to the ailing student. Noriko's movement was panicked, but still driven, though her mind was breifly distracted again by a sudden glint of light in the corner of her eye. Blinking, she inspected the spot more closely and realized it was a pair of glasses - the girl's? They were more valuable, and in the event that the girl needed them to see...best to take them with her. Easy enough, since she could just slip them into the pocket of her dress (she was a practical woman after all, even in her refinement). Turning her attention back to the larger priority, she bent and carefully lifted the girl, who's frame was quite small now that she thought about it. Fortunate, in some regards.

Carrying her cautiously, but walking as quickly as she deemed safe, she made haste for the infirmary, hoping to a God she didn't really believe in that the nurse would be in and not busy. Obviously someone up there was listening because when she arrived, there was a nurse in the main room, checking the beds. One look, from her and the nurse pointed to one of the closest beds, on which, Noriko placed the girl very gently, trying not to aggravate things.

Several strained minutes went by as the Miatorian sensei was forced to simply watch and answer a few simple questions about the girl's condition upon finding her, while the nurse attempted to gather her wits about the situation and give her verdict on whether more serious action needed to be taken. Resisting the urge to bite her nails, Noriko waited it out until the nurse finally spoke again. A fever, fairly serious but should ease given time. Restricted to bed rest and regular checking of her condition.

It was better than it could've been, she supposed. Actually, now that there was someone else looking after her, it was probably time she headed back to find Sayuri and got back on track with her earlier plan of events. Except...that was right, the girl's things were still outside. One more trip wouldn't hurt - she was already late, it wouldn't matter that much if she was late by a bit more. Excusing herself, she hurried back, retracing her path back to where she had come across the collapsed girl.

It took her a little while to find the books again - her memory of the process of trying to fix the situation was quite blurry thanks to her panicked state of mind, but she eventually found the pile again. Collecting the girl's things, she made her way to the infirmary a second time, albeit a bit less rushed. Placing those things down on a table near the girl's bed, she gave the girl another look, wondering how she was faring; the nurse had disappeared for the moment, most likely to fetch something as well. "Well, let's hope you'll be alright..."

Though somewhat numb, Amoretta believed she was, in fact, alive. A mild surprise. Maybe the sounds of an approach were just here imagination? Her eyes remained closed. No need to open them. Her vision would likely have still blurred. No sense in wasting energy. Better to just lie there on her back and try to regain her stre- . . . her back. . . ? No. Amoretta knew better. She had stood up after finishing her sketch. When she had tried to move, she had fallen face-first. Yet she was now on her back.

She was not on the ground, she realized, but hard surface. Wood, she surmised after lightly rubbing her pinky against it. Someone had moved her. No, more importantly, there was someone nearby. Even if she were still outside and on the ground, she would be able to tell. Her body felt cold. A non-existent pressure was on her arm. It was the sensation one felt when something was uncomfortably close. Dread settled over her. A murderer would just act. A prankster wouldn't be so close. A normal person would not be lingering over her, so. . . just who was it?

“My little Lily, I know you're awake. Your breathing always became a little quicker when you were conscious, after all.”

Amoretta felt her veins freeze. Her heart stopped. Her lungs refused to accept air. She knew that voice. It was deep, resonant, and filled with love. Twisted and dark, but very pure and extreme love. Her eyes shot open to reveal the face of the entity more fearsome than the demons of Goetia. It was more dangerous, to Amoretta, than the monsters that hid under the bed or in the closet, or even the fallen Lucifer. It was her father. There were no words to share. No reciprocation for the love he had. Just reaction to danger- like an animal. She rushed to sit up and escape.

And then a logic error occurred. Her back flared up. Hurt like the devil. Only, there was one issue, she realized, as time stood still. Her father's death was synonymous with the damage to her back. In other words, he was not there. It was a dream. And this pain in her back meant her body moved with her dream-self.

A cry of terror escaped the girl's lips as she shot up in the bed, only to twist into a squeal of pain as her body sharply dropped back down on the mattress. Both her rise and fall were nearly instantaneous. The girl twisted and arced in pain as she tried to go still. Reflexes acted, only worsening the pain. Her breathing was ragged and unseemly. Grunt mixed with whimpers as she managed to go still, finally cutting the source of renewed pain off. Amoretta could finally cope with and vanquish the remaining pain. Her breathing was still shaky. She felt sweaty. Beneath her was a soft surface. Someone really had moved her.

And she did feel a presence, but it was nothing like that of the one in her night-terror. Didn't change the fact that there was still someone watching her as she slept. Creeper. Pervert. Depraved miscreant. Those insults would not escape her lips, but they were in her head. With fear gone and pain left in its wake, the girl was in a sour mood. Questionably fouler than normal. She let out a sigh, partially to relieve her disgust, partially to stabilize her breathing.

“. . . who is there?” She asked in a mostly-stable voice, her eyes slowly opening. She could make outlines out. But the blurriness was worse than usual. No doubt, she would not be able to see properly, even with her glasses. She turned her neck. More silhouettes were visible in the distance. Or maybe they were close? They looked like beds. Which meant she was in a hospital or an infirmary. No, too quiet for a hospital. Infirmary, then. One at the school most likely. Her gaze shifted to the vaguely humanoid figure. Colors were there, but Amoretta would never be able to accurately describe anything she was staring at. “You either brought me here, or you're the doctor.” Her voice was steady by then, but her tone was unintentionally uncertain. It probably gave away that she was blinder than a bat.

She'd taken a seat nearby the bed, having resolved to keep an eye on the girl in tandem with the nurse whilst the latter consulted medical records. Sayuri would understand, and they did have plenty of days left to figure out their joint venture as it was, anyway.

Perhaps it was somewhat creepy to be watching over a student she had only just met, with rapt attention, but Noriko couldn't shake the feelings of anxiety that had erupted upon seeing the collapsed girl. The least she could do, professionally and even just of her own compassionate nature, would be to wait until the girl awoke, and got her bearings again. Although, in the mean time, there was a nagging desire to take a peek at the girl's belongings, which she had recovered afterwards and were now sitting on the bedside table. The sketch book caught her eye again and the sudden burst of curiosity got the better of her as she carefully took a look at it. Browns orbs widened in delight as they beheld the phantasmagoria of fantasy-themed drawings across the page. Dear God-that-she-didn't-really-believe-in this was amazing! The girl had real talent for this, and a creative eye to boot. It was sorely tempting to keep looking, but Noriko caught herself up and neatly placed the sketch book back with the girl's other belongings.

Curbing her curiosity, the Miatorian sensei returned her gaze to the ailing girl, noting that she appeared rather peaceful, if only due to the state of rest she was in. "Hopefully the fever will wear off aswe-!" A sharp, sudden noise made her cut herself short, as the girl snapped into motion with a terror-filled cry, followed by sounds of pain. The poor dear's body was writhing even as she'd laid back down, and Noriko could do nothing for fear of aggravating things. She was just starting to still when the sensei stood, about to drag the nurse in here if she wasn't already on her way. Of course, she didn't make it very far before the student managed a question.

Turning on the spot to inspect the other's condition, she took quick note of her voice becoming stable, but paused to see if the girl recognized her bearings first. Her latter statement proved otherwise however, and the inflection of uncertainty made her wonder if the girl could actually see much at all. Speaking of...

Her hand dipped into her pocket, where she retrieved the glasses she'd picked up and promptly forgotten about in her panic. Cautiously, in case sudden movement incited anything else, Noriko held the glasses out in her palm. "The former, although I am fairly sure the nurse is about to reappear any moment now. I have your glasses here, if you want them." Pausing, the sensei frowned a little as she realized she was unaware of what to do now that the girl had awoken, even though that was what she had been waiting for.

"I fathom that asking if you're alright would be pointless, but how are you faring? Is there anything we need to know, any pre-existing conditions or injuries?" Since she had no other course of action to follow, she became professional again, at least until the nurse came back out to see what all the noise was about.

A response came. Female. To be expected, considering where she was. The woman was not a nurse or doctor, which was a relief in and of itself. She hated doctors. She hated nurses. And she hated dealing with either. She didn't much care for strangers, either, but she could tolerate them like a saint tolerated the unclean masses compared to doctors. Her glasses were mentioned, and the woman moved. No doubt, she was offering the much-needed accessories back to the girl.

She reached out and grasped air. She lowered her hand again, grasping at air and scratching at the edges of the glasses. Third time was the charm, it seemed, as she gripped the glasses and slid them on. As expected, her vision was still shot at best. She could at least make out some bits of this woman's shape, though. Better than before. Though, with her eyes burning and straining, she found that liquid ran down either side of her face. Her eyes were watering. Too much strain. And it was too much effort to wipe them.

And then a question. If her condition had to be brought up, then there was a good chance that this woman was not a teacher at Lulim. She thought that all of her instructors had been informed as to her physical deficiencies. If the school's finer workings were as she understood, then that was the case. She hadn't bothered to look too far into the structure. With that conclusion, the girl let out a weak breath, partially of annoyance at being focused on, partially due to the fact that she was effectively disabled.

“The nurse should know everything that's important, I would hope.” She responded at first, shifting slightly to lessen the pain in her waist. Her hand slid up to remove her glasses. No need to wear them for the time being. “And I'll live. Nothing to worry about. Nothing out of the ordinary.” She spoke before thinking too much on it. She was feverish, unable to focus her eyes, and still shifting in pain. Saying “nothing out of the ordinary” was just asking for attention. Damn it to bloody hell! “If I had to complain, it would be in regards to my vision or weakness, and both are things that will become better with time.” Her weakness was obvious. Her eyesight was visibly bad enough due to the fever. No need to hide either.

And then it clicked in her head. She had things with her when she collapsed. This woman gave her back her glasses, which most likely meant that she gathered her other things. The location did not matter. She could get them whenever she felt better. No, what was much more important was whether or not her products had been violated. With a sudden jerk, she focused on the woman as best she could, slipping the glasses back on clumsily. She wanted to have as good of a view as possible- she needed to be able to best interpret the woman's expressions.

“Did you look?” Never mind gratitude. She would have gladly laid on the ground in the sunlight. Never mind introductions. The likelihood that she would speak with this person again was small. Introductions were just needless formalities, after all. What was important was whether or not this woman looked at her things. Granted, she was vague. “My book. Did you look inside it?” Her tone was serious and about as stable as it could be, given the circumstances. It was easily discernible that the book, or, rather, its contents, was important to her. She never showed anybody her drawings. Not the psychiatrist she was visiting, nor her mother. Nobody had received permission. Nobody would understand, after all.

Apparently the guess was spot on; it took a couple of tries for the girl to grab hold of her glasses from Noriko's palm, though the latter did not move away or make a comment as she did so - she knew what it was like to have to rely on aids to see, considering she was wearing contacts right there and then. Heck, her own glasses were in their case in her pocket right now as well. Unfortunately, this meant she also knew that the watering of the girl's eyes meant that it wasn't helping enough. Poor girl.

She removed them anyway, as she answered the Miatorian sensei's questions. She was quite right though. "I'm sure she would have them. My apologies, I'm a little out of my depth here." Honesty generally worked when someone made a faux pas, under normal circumstances at least. Not that that train of thought went very far when the girl's words properly registered in her mind. Nothing out of the ordinary? Then that would mean... Poor girl indeed. No need to exacerbate things though - pointing it out would probably cause more annoyance than anything else; attention when you felt like crap didn't help anyone.

"Is there anything you wou-" Sudden movement cut her off this time, as Noriko's eyes followed the girl's jerking motion and subsequently putting the glasses back on. Whatever it was that had come to her attention was serious then, if it meant putting up with watering eyes. Look? What would she....oh, of course. Well, that curiosity, whilst short-lived, could prove a nasty problem here. Obviously the book and its drawings were important to her; she'd committed yet another faux pas in a handful of minutes. Great progress for a teacher of sociology and cultural norms. At least there was something positive she could add.

"I did. Admittedly, my curiosity got the better of me, for a page anyway. I must say, your work is...incredible. Attention to detail and creativity far beyond the normal scope. Perhaps even on par with the passion my sister has for dancing, or more. I apologize for violating your privacy, but I am not sorry for having seen such a piece of art." And that was why making a faux pas only ever got worse - honesty brought on by guilt led to rambling, which could cause more problems even if it was sincere. At this point, she probably couldn't make it much worse though. "A beautiful phantasmagoria of fantasy, to say the least."

Amoretta was angry. She was partially afraid, but mostly angry. Her book of secrets and hopes was violated by a blurry-faced stranger. Saying that she wished she had her trusty fountain pen in hand was an understatement. It didn't matter if she was weak or ill, or that the person before her was a teacher. She would've attacked like a mad beast at that point. Her voice began to escape with the woman's first words. “Nobody gave y-eh?” Her indignation had been stone-walled by confusion an unexpected occurrence. The rage that had risen from nothingness so suddenly had so suddenly warped and twisted into confused embarrassment and inner panic.

She was being complimented. The woman had to be lying. She was a teacher in a facility that preached some nonsense about a loving God. Despite that, she was praising the art. Lies. They had to be lies. She wouldn't be able to deal with it, otherwise! The woman's choice of words showed that she didn't understand the meaning or the feelings behind the words, either way. Calling it fantasy was not wrong, but, to Amoretta, it was more than just fantasy. So, she believed the woman was lying. And, even if she wasn't, she didn't appreciate it in the way that the girl did.

But, despite that, Amoretta felt her cheeks burning red. She felt her pulse quickening as her mind quickly broke down from structured assurances to mad inner-ramblings. Why did she feel embarrassed? The woman's words were hollow- they had to be. So why was she reacting like that? It had to be the fever. Yes. Just the fever acting up. There was no reason for her to panic. Everything was the fault of her being ill. Sheepishly, she reached at the sheets, tugging them up a bit. Like a child, she thought to hide.

“Th-they're not-” She finally began to mumble, only to cut herself off. Not what? Beautiful? Of course the pictures were beautiful. They were her mental ideals- the counterparts to reality. And denying that they were simply fantasy would have likely made the teacher question her mental health. She had to avoid that flow of thoughts. “You're just. . . s-saying something in hopes of appeasing me, tr-trying to get me to lower my guard.” She declared weakly. Even if she refused to acknowledge it, she was showing very obvious signs of embarrassment. “N-nobody in their right mind would be complimenting those pictures. Normal people would think they were weird.” She had to quickly re-erect some walls. Some line of defense. She needed to be calm. Otherwise, she'd act like an idiot. There was no need to be friendly.

But, even if she thought the teacher was lying, she couldn't deny that she felt fuzzy inside with the praise. And at that thought, she drew the sheets up further, until they stopped just below her nose. She felt like she was melting. The fever could not have been that bad, so why?

Well this was going swimmingly; she could see the anger flaring up as soon as she started speaking, as expected. Except...it disappeared. Quickly. She hadn't expected any real sort of forgiveness, though she aimed to perhaps lessen the blow with the sincere complimenting of the work. Yet it seemed to do much more than that; Noriko stood silently, and a touch awkwardly, whilst the girl stumbled in her thought process, trying to find the right words or some such. That being said, the rising flush didn't escape her gaze, nor did the movement of her huddling up beneath the sheets. If not for the seriousness of the situation, she probably would have noted the cuteness of such an action.

Despite all that, the Miatorian sensei kept a smile on her face - out of habit, and kindness. She hadn't meant to antagonize the girl, she'd simply been a bit too honest. Thankfully, the nurse hadn't come in yet, though she could vaguely recognize the tapping of keys coming from the office - perhaps she was looking up the student's medical records. She didn't seem to be in a panic or anything (considering she hadn't raced back out to check up on the girl), meaning there was a good chance things were going to be fine. Or normal, anyway. Speaking of which, the comment about normality evoked a quiet giggle, muffled behind her hand.

"Perhaps I'm just not normal then. Or, as I would like to think, weird means it's different, maybe hard to understand, but still beautiful. Even if I were to use such a thing to appease you, it would still be true nonetheless." Reigning in her mirth, Noriko took a seat again, on the chair she'd shifted over beside the bed. Obviously she was not use to her work being complimented, if it caused this much embarrassment - enough to resort to pulling her sheets even further in an attempt to hide herself. "People have different perspectives though, even if there is some form of common experience across them. I might not fully understand it as you do, but to me..." Tilting her gaze back to where the book was laying, closed mind you, she smiled anew and turned back to the girl. "I find it quite wondrous. I wish I could draw such things, but alas, I was not gifted in the creativity department to that extent."

Words flowed from the woman's lips again. Assurances, it seemed like. And, badly enough, they were logical assurances. She did find that she was getting better, though. Her pulse was relaxing. Her face was cooling down. Perhaps her fit (or her embarrassment) was dying down now? Working with the assumption that this still-nameless woman was honest, Amoretta felt slightly at ease. It was against her better judgment, she believed, but she felt like crap. What were the chances her contact with the teacher would be prolonged?

Following that logic, the girl allowed herself to relax. Even if she gave out more than was necessary, what would the woman do that she couldn't while Amoretta was disabled?

“I'm not creative.” She quietly denied the praise, keeping her sheets up still. It was more comfortable like that, she found. “The concepts exist elsewhere. I'm just. . . envious of them. Fantasy, it may be. But it's infinitely preferable to the world we're in right now.” She calmly stated, eyes focused on the blurry ceiling. If anything, she could use the woman as a test subject. How would a person react to her inner musings? Would she be rejected? Accepted? Slandered? She might as well have tested it out while she could claim a fever made her confused.

“After all, this world is disgusting once you stop looking at it with rose-colored glasses. Humanity tries to look pretty on the outside, but everyone only cares about their own benefit. Truth and love of any form are more fantasy than the contents of my book.” She paused, blinking. She needed to tread carefully on religion, though. The God that was praised at the school was one she doubted. Humanity was far too evil for their to be any truth in His book. But the woman at her bedside was probably a believer. “I don't like people. I can't trust them. A non-existent fantasy can be idealized, though. Even if it doesn't exist- no, because it doesn't exist- you can imagine that the laws of humanity do not apply there. You can pretend that everyone and everything there is more welcoming and warm than our world.”

Her neck slowly turned. She was feeling hot again, but she was certain it was just the fever this time. Her lips curled into a slight smile as she drew the sheet down a bit. What kind of smile was she smiling? She didn't know. It was probably twisted on some level. In reality, it was sad- betraying her innermost thoughts. “That's what you were looking at. My hopes and dreams. You're mean to let your curiosity get the better of you. That's worse than looking in a girl's diary, or reading their confession letter to a class.”

She laughed, but went into a slight coughing fit. Her throat hadn't bothered her before, though. That was odd.

“Do you understand?” She asked finally, temples throbbing. It felt surprisingly nice to actually verbalize her feelings, even if she didn't consider the woman an ally. “Or do you think God's plan for this world just needs more patience and faith?” Sickness was the best cause for truth. Her tone when mentioning divinity had plummeted. It showed her lack of faith or hope without her even able to hide it.

Oh well. She was probably going to be condemned for preferring “demons” and “monsters” over reality, anyway, so what was another sin?

Well, even with her rambling, it seemed things were calming down, albeit slowly. Surely a good sign, no? She'd have to hope so at any rate, though she had to admit, this girl was beginning to intrigue her. Not creative...well, if she wasn't creative, she was certainly something else. "Perhaps not so much creative then but talented. Many could not transpose such concepts into artwork as well as you have." Surely they could agree on that at the very least - she didn't strike Noriko as the type to be awfully modest about their work, but she'd been wrong before.

Her mocha orbs sharpened a little at her particular phrasing though - obviously this girl had problems with the human condition, which, given the apparent situation, she couldn't much blame her for. What she hadn't expected was the continued explanation, which grew increasingly worrisome. This girl had misanthropy in spades by the sounds of things, though there were parts that the Miatorian sensei couldn't help but agree with, at least to some degree.

On a good note, she was letting the sheets draw back a little - hopefully that meant she felt somewhat more comfortable. Of course, now Noriko was the one flushing just a bit as the girl spoke of the full scope of what the intrusion meant to her. "Indeed, it was mean of me. I shall endeavour to not do so again." She didn't promise never to do it again, because a gut feeling was telling her that such promises might mean very little in these circumstances. That being said, the little mishap had let to a very interesting discussion, which just so happened to touch upon one of her own, self-recognized, quirks.

"I...think I understand. I don't fully empathize, but I believe I understand what you're getting at. The world can be a very disgusting place." She knew she'd been lucky with her home life - compassionate, caring siblings and parents, few to no real transgressions with either. She was, however, quite aware of what life was like across the board; her current career path somewhat demanded knowledge on a variety of societal standards. "As for God, well eheh..." A small chuckle left her as she paused briefly to gather herself. "I'm not a hardcore believer to be perfectly honest. I'm imagine that this universe was created without the hand of some higher being, but not quite as described in any of the major religious scriptures." A better word for her faith would be something akin to theistic agnosticism, but that was another matter altogether.

"A world of fantasy would be very much exciting and wondrous, much like your artwork, but there are some good things in our current world. I wouldn't trade my relationships with my sisters, for instance, in any circumstance. It's a form of love, familial love, really. I'm lucky, that much I can't deny; I was exposed to it from an early age. Perhaps you just haven't had the chance to experience things of that calibre." Noriko hesitated a bit - this was a peculiar conversation to be having with a student, especially one she didn't really know. Then again, this was anything but a normal situation.

"I guess I just hope for a way to move towards something like the world of fantasy. It's a near impossible task, I know, but I hope for it anyway. People might do things for their own benefit, but sometimes not just their own benefit; you might help someone because it looks good for you, or you feel better for having helped them, yet ultimately, they still receive some benefit, even though it was not a fully selfless act." Debating morality, the human condition, society as a whole....this was why she took on her profession in such an area. It was so intriguing, especially with all the different perspectives and ideas. Hopefully her sterner, more passionate side wasn't leaking into her argument too much, lest she agitate the poor girl further.

"Sorry for getting away from things a bit. I do understand why love seems so hard to find though...if not for my sisters, and my parents, I would be much worse for wear. My unsuccessful lovelife seems to attest to as much." Another chuckle and a warm smile soon encompassed her face, thanks to the rather ironic prospect of sharing personal details and beliefs with a stranger, so to speak.

The girl remained silent while processing the woman's words. There was so much in her words that made little sense. For starters, how in bloody, blazing hell did a woman that was not a steadfast believer get employed at a Catholic school? Weren't the Catholics the most anal of all religious people? She let out a quiet, faint breath. Her head hurt slightly. She was feeling warm again. But she was not angry or frustrated- so there was at least the fact that her emotions were in check.

She did not care for the apology the woman gave. Her words were a joke- a tease. No need to go back for clarification, though. As the woman went on, though, Amoretta found herself mentally deriding her. The situation was laughable. The woman claimed she understood. This was just like the perfectly healthy person “understanding” a cripple, or a person who was on hospice despite being younger than fifteen. Claiming to understand was nothing more than conceit on the “empathetic” person's part.

You comprehend, maybe. But you do not understand. Much like the people of this world hear, but they do not listen.

Those were the girl's thoughts as she closed her eyes, resting her neck again. She would not be able to sleep. She knew that. She would have this woman take responsibility for “saving” her. She would entertain her with a debate until she could move or no longer talk. The woman finished her piece. The girl had plenty of issues to bring up, but something kept bugging her, poking at her brain.

“Bollocks.” She gave up, slipping into English. “What the hell kind of bollocks is that, anyway? Did the pope go tits up when I wasn't looking, and the whole cult got restructured?” She did not care whether or not the woman could understand the language. She had to get that out of her system. She doubted the woman would care overly much, even if she did understand, going by the track of the conversation so far. She had no intentions of clarifying or apologizing for her slip, though.

“Part of your words suggested that you understood, but the latter part suggested you did not. So, to be entirely clear, I will explain what I meant about love. When I said it was more a fantasy than the contents of my sketches, I did not mean romantic love specifically- I meant love in general. Romantic love is just an excuse for sexual procreation, or a reason to continue to stay together after the fact. Perhaps self-suggestion to alleviate the guilt in the case of heterosexuals who manage to contract a new life. Parental love can be considered either self-gratification, raising a little creature to your desired image to live your dreams, or something along the lines of human conscience being too sensitive to rear a life and immediately throw it out into the world. In retrospect, a child's love for their parent is innocent until they grow older- then it's simply their way of hiding in an act while their dependence- physical, mental, emotional, financial, your decision- is still present.”

Calling her words cynical would have been a compliment. The fact that she was going that far off-field with her thoughts showed she didn't care at the present, and that her opinions were horribly twisted compared to the average individual. Slowly, she turned her gaze towards the woman again. She still couldn't make everything out, but it was a matter of formality.

“For example, I trust my mother inasmuch that I 'trust someone that has not betrayed me over the course of my life'. I also love her in that 'she has seen to my needs and accepted my dependence in the present'. In retrospect, my mother loves me in that she's kept me. However, she's taken a hands-off approach to speaking with me. This, to me, is justification for my theories. Guilt on her part keeps me there, but that's all. Meanwhile, I remain there- or, in the present, here- because I acknowledge my weakness and accept that I need her.”

She relaxed her neck again. She didn't often need to turn it. Focusing on a computer screen was very easy, after all.

“I will agree with you, though, in regards to religion. I can't believe that a world like this exists by the creation of a loving God. However, I refuse to believe in the randomness and chaos of evolution, the 'Big Bang', or things like that. I also find concepts like 'reincarnation' to be laughable at best. This world is sad and broken. I don't think anybody will fix it any time soon. Certainly not a god or devil. Probably just a monster in a suit, wielding the hammer of nuclear fire. But that's politics. We're not discussing politics.”

Noriko blinked. And blinked again. And a third time. The girl had suddenly slipped into another language, in a spout of virtual verbal nonsense (to her anyway) that sounded rather annoyed. Well that was definitely not a good sign - this whole situation was utterly bizarre though. Now it was her turn to listen in silence, trying to weigh up her options and explain her side of things more clearly, should that be the case, considering miscommunication appeared to be quite prominent between them.

Cynicism would have been putting things lightly. At least they had one thing they could agree in, in part at least. "Politics is an inevitable by-product when discussing any societal matter, though. Too intertwined to completely ignore. I do agree that it won't be any time soon that this broken world gets fixed, but that doesn't mean there's not a possibility of it happening in the future. Oh, and reincarnation may seem laughable in terms of practicality, but there are some aspects that seem desirable. Speaking for myself, anyway." Clearing her throat lightly, the Miatorian sensei paused and furrowed her brows to consider their conversation thus far before she spoke again. This girl obviously had a harsher experience than most, considering her outlook, but remarkably intelligent; a force to be reckoned with when trying to reason things out. Not to mention that there was something underlying her family in there - it kept coming up in general terms, but she'd only spoken of her mother specifically.

"I didn't misunderstand that you were speaking of it in general, though our views on romantic love seem to differ drastically. I was trying to use some specific examples to explain my thoughts though, which was a bad idea. That being said, romantic love can encompass more than aiming for sexual procreation - homosexual relationships for instance. Although, I suppose you could argue that lust plays a significant role in most, still..." Tapping her finger against her chin, having already started beating up her own argument, Noriko chuckled and shook her head before continuing anyway. "I find it to be more of a form of attachment, sometimes of dependency, sometimes of desire of not being alone. Maybe even simply admiration of the other person, or a combination of all such aspects. It's a complex notion - a singular reason would seem inadequate would it not? Speculation on my part, but still." She would never claim to know exactly what love was - all she had was her opinions and self experience. "Parental love...no, I can't really talk about that since I only know the other side of it. I have to admit, I find it somewhat hard to believe that it's simply the act of moulding a creature to their desires, considering my parents interfered with my life path in a relatively bare manner." The looks her parents had given her sometimes, when they'd steered her away from some rather precarious pathways - for her own safety she liked to think, though it could have been something more akin to what the student beside her was speaking of.

Idling for a few moments as she pondered and sorted through her thoughts, Noriko looked over at the ailing girl, checking to see if there were any signs of another bout of aggravation; she was meant to be keeping an eye on the girl after all. "Dependence is always a part of social life. We wouldn't have society if it wasn't for the fact that people depended upon others to secure their property and rights. It doesn't mean that some genuine emotion couldn't spring from it though. Not that that happens in every relationship unfortunately. I'm guessing you know that first-hand." Pity would likely only anger this one, so she didn't elaborate too much just yet.

She was already playing with fire - she'd stoked the flames, and now it was time to see if things crackled and burned outside of safe zone.

The conversation had evolved, or perhaps devolved, into a structured and polite debate, going back and forth. It could not have been declared that at first, but now that they'd shot opinions back and forth a few times, Amoretta figured that there was no way to call it anything but. It was pleasing, in a way, to know that her thoughts were not being shot down, rejected, or outright labeled as sacrilegious, or something equally foolish. Perhaps there was some small degree of hope for people yet. Or maybe this one teacher was half-decent. The girl was slightly interested in figuring out which the case was.

But that would require more effort and more involvement. She was not sure if she desired either.

Her chest constricted. Her heart was not particularly weak, but when her body overall was weak, it, too, felt the effects when she wasn't too well off. It'd pass. It always did. But, regardless, it showed as she closed her eyes. She looked half-asleep. Half-dead, even. But she herself was neither too worried or too pained by this. She let out a quiet sigh as she finished processing everything. Her condition didn't take up too much of her mind- it was all second nature, sadly enough, to deal with it.

“Unfortunately, life is not a game. Nor is it a fantasy. We can't simply grind things out in the opening so we can stand by ourselves against the final boss. Nor can we become the chosen one and guide our story to whichever end we please. Each one of us authors our own story, yes, but the events in it are neither crafted nor controlled by us. How the develop is the only factor we're given control over. It is because of this structure that life has taken that we are, in fact, dependent on others to some degree, whether or not we like it. Personally, I don't like it. I'd prefer it if everything was dependent on me, on my choice. Not other people and their fickle natures. Nor officials that wear masks to guide the sheep they've so carefully cultivated in the masses.”

She paused, taking in a deep breath. She held it in. Her chest began to relax. Her complexion seemed worse now than it had been when she first awakened, but she seemed otherwise stable.

“I think we have some degree of understanding as to where the other stands on the matter of the world, love, politics, and society. Likewise, I don't believe that simply discussing them will cause either of us to change our views on these matters. And, while I don't know about you, I don't take pleasure in forcing myself, or my thoughts, on others. Contrary to how some of your colleagues potentially are, if religious stereotypes for Sisters are anything to go by.” She allowed herself to take in another breath. Her chest felt normal again. She felt tired after that, though.

“I suppose I'll be honest. Had we met up in any other place, under any other circumstances, I likely would have dismissed you without a second thought beyond social formalities. I suppose being ill on a mostly deserted campus does have some few benefits. If I wasn't confined here, I likely wouldn't have bothered using you as a test. You entertained me, woman. More than that, even if you were acting, you've bolstered my hopes in humanity slightly. You have my gratitude for either. Or both. Whichever you prefer. I believe I made it obvious, but I don't particularly love my fellow man. God can curse me for caring more for myself than others. I'd sooner transcend humanity than join with it. Alas, that's not an option in this universe.”

She turned her still-blurry gaze to the woman. “I would like to think you haven't taken offense to being regarded in such a manner. 'Woman' was actually a term of respect in older cultures. It's lost that effect in modern times, but I have plenty of other unsavory terms to call a person if I believe they don't deserve respect. Regardless, I have not a name to call you by. So, woman will have to do for now.” A playful smirk curved her lips ever so slightly. “But 'girl' is hardly a respectful term, no matter how you look at it. Amoretta Lilianne Reinard is my name. As you might guess, I'm not Japanese. Because of this, I'm not bothered by which name you choose to regard me by. I know many here have varying degrees of comfort with English. Go with what you're most comfortable with. You're free to give me your own, but, while I have no face to put to your identity right now, I've deemed you worth remembering. Your voice alone with identify you in the future.”

She paused. Perhaps she was coming off oddly. She decided to clarify herself before a misunderstanding arose.

“What I'm saying is that I'm willing to speak with you again in the future, if you think talking with a schoolgirl is a pleasant pastime. Granted, I can't guarantee that there will be anything else to cover in the future. We've covered all the major fields. All that would be left is in-depth observations. Most don't have the time for that.” She concluded with a slight nod.

Geez she really didn't look too well when she closed her eyes. If this was really a normal occurrence, then this girl must have gone through hell and back in the past. She was very much intelligent though; this had proven to be a very intriguing conversation, considering the circumstances. The notions they'd covered were actually all quite big concepts, if she were to be frank, especially the concept of natural human values, which was effectively what they'd stumbled along onto.

"It might not be as desirable, but the idealistic notion of being able to depend solely upon oneself effectively defeats the idea that man is a social creature. If we were utterly self-reliant, the likelihood of isolation would be high, and warring between individuals might be even more prominent. Relationships could still form but much less likely, since the stepping stone would be gone - I'll agree with you in that all relationships form initially from some kind of dependency, but that can then grow into something else; love. For me anyway." Might as well clarify exactly what she meant, since that seemed to be the best course of action with this girl, and vice versa.

That in mind, she couldn't help but agree with the girl's statement about positions, views and subsequent forcing of them on others, with a small nod. "Though, I will admit, not all the Sisters are pushy about their beliefs. I wouldn't be allowed to remain as a sensei here, I think, if they were." Unlike many other religious institutions that heavily barred themselves against any who weren't strictly of their own faith, which was why she perfectly understood the preconceived assumption.

A smile broke out on her lips after that, and held even when she raised her eyebrow slightly at being called 'woman', wondering what exactly the denotation behind it was, for this girl anyway, since it normally wound up being derogatory - something she didn't really expect right now from the student. They had been conversing rather courteously after all. Sure enough, she was rewarded with further clarification soon after. A very peculiar name, for a very peculiar girl, of course, and certainly not Japanese, as she had pointed out to the Miatorian sensei.

Well then, what was she most comfortable with? Reinard was...a little bit too foreign on her tongue, but calling by her first name was a little too personal. Which of course, left Lillianne...which she could rather easily stomach, so to speak. "Well Lillianne, so you have something other than woman to call me by, should you wish to do so, I am Noriko Tsuchikami. Presumably you know the protocol for appropriate honorifics, so I'll leave it at that." Chuckling quietly, she stood and took a moment to stretch her limbs that were starting to stiffen a bit too much for her liking.

"It has been rather pleasant, to be honest, and there's always observations, plus any new material or experiences that come about between now and a future talk. And perhaps, if ever deemed worthy of it, I might get to see some more of your beautiful artwork. However, I should be off - I have an appointment to catch up on, and likely a somewhat angry sibling to deal with. I'll let the nurse take over the watch now." With a half-wave, she stepped towards the office to do just that, letting the staff member know she was taking her leave, before coming back to the main room.

"Until the next we meet, Lillianne."

Amoretta remained silent as the teacher spoke. She could tell that the engagement was ending. While it had not been within her immediate intentions, she most certainly had no intentions of arguing or complaining. Her body demanded more rest. It would likely end in another terror, but she would have to deal with that on her own. Her hand raised in response to Noriko's wave. Her eyes slowly closed as the woman left. The orbs burned. A sign of both fatigue and illness.

“I did not give you permission to up and leave, but I suppose that worked out for the best this one time.” She quietly spoke to the empty void above her. “Admittedly, meeting a person like you was odd. I honestly don't know what to expect next time, but I suppose I'll take a shot at looking forward to it with nice expectations. That's. . . different, to say the least. I'll actually see you next time. Try not to be horribly maimed and disfigured by that time.” The teacher was gone. More than that, the girl reverted to English. The words were meant for nobody, in truth, but they at least escaped her system.

With that, the girl relaxed as best she could. She felt weak. Hot, as well. Exhaustion was not far away from gripping her and dragging her into oblivion. If only her dreams were just that- empty and pure- then she might be able to consider it a good rest. That was something she hadn't had in years. Something she wouldn't have for more, she was sure. Her mind continued on increasingly small considerations, processing, reviewing, regurgitating, and finally redigesting the exchange between herself and the woman until slumber claimed her. Nothing would change, but it was at least. . . an interesting diversion.