NOTE: Standard fanfic disclaimers apply. Marimite nor any of its characters to not belong to me, by any means. I make use of them to frame this story, anyway, in the hope that this tale will somehow be worth telling.
I've taken some bits from the anime and some from the novel and manga translations floating around (most notably from the wonderful folks behind and the Ozaku blog). For the most part, though, it's speculation on my part about the relationship between two magnificent, somewhat enigmatic, certainly interesting ladies from the Yamayurikai once free from the confines of Lillian.
THORNS IN THE DARKNESS
Chapter 1: Arrival
There aren't many occasions that could make me feel anxious, apprehensive even. A wedding normally wouldn't be one of them, save perhaps if I'd been forced to plan my own. Thankfully, I haven't – but I have been summoned to attend Torii Eriko's wedding, and despite our erstwhile enmity, how could I refuse? After all, Eriko had tried her best to be an amiable and considerate friend during our years in high school. Part of that could be attributed to Youko's meddling, to the fact that she had often forced us in situations that required us to work together closely without resorting to strangling each other. Still, despite her dubious penchant for the pursuit of the unusual, Eriko could be considerate and caring beneath her sometimes apathetic façade.
The gravel path crunched beneath my boots as I made my way down the path to the ryokan. I suppose only Eriko would have chosen to conduct the ceremony at a hot spring resort in Kyushu – a western wedding ceremony at a very traditionally Japanese venue, I might add. I'd be giving up a good portion of my summer vacation to attend, but then it wasn't too often that a full Yamayurikai reunion took place. Oh, I'd see each of the old gang once in a while – Eriko, Rei, Yoshino, Sachiko, Yumi-chan, Shimako, Youko – but most of them our meetings I'd classify as seldom. My few conversations with Youko were often too hurried, somewhat impersonal even. She never inquired if I'd found someone special after Shiori, and when I'd attempted to inquire into her own affairs, she'd skillfully direct the conversation to something else. It did seem surprising given how much she'd meddled with my life back at Lillian. Maybe Ms. Law School simply grew more pragmatic the longer she became engrossed in her chosen soon-to-be-full-pledged profession.
I arrived at the ryokan's entrance at last, and I heaved a sigh of relief as I put down the backpack I'd been lugging for a good half-hour. I was immediately greeted by on old woman dressed in a brown yukata, who promptly bowed and inquired if I was part of Eriko's party, and when I replied in the affirmative, she immediately offered to show me to my room. I was about to take her up on the offer since a nice warm futon did sound particularly inviting, but we were interrupted by a happy laugh that came from behind her. Eriko stepped forward, dressed in a yellow yukata – invoking immediate recollection of her tenure as Rosa Foetida – and enfolded me in a warm embrace. I returned it briefly before stepping back to survey her at arm's length. She'd grown her hair out a bit, though she still wore it back with a headband. But she did look positively glowing – as I suppose most brides aspire to look right before their impending matrimony. And content. Despite the inherent eccentricity of their matchup, it did seem as if Eriko had chosen Yamanobe-sensei well.
"Sei!" Eriko exclaimed. "I never would have supposed you'd be the second-most punctual person to appear from the Lillian crowd, especially given your track record. Whatever did college do to you?"
"Made me a bit saner to deal with, I suppose." I grinned at her, the same impudent smile I'd always sported back in high school. "But you said someone arrived here first? And just who managed to beat me?"
"As if you needed to ask. Of course Youko got here first. Well, she actually got here only a couple of hours ago. She looked more tired than you, though. I suppose it must have been the longer commute."
"Ah. Of course." The former Rosa Chinensis was the epitome of a proper woman after all. Polite to a fault and innately perceptive; she had hidden her cunning nature behind a well-composed smile, or rather, a well-mannered smirk. From most students at Lillian, anyway. To those of us who knew the extent of her meddling, she sometimes bordered on being positively evil. Well, perhaps I should say more doggedly insufferable than evil, simply because she'd irritated me by knowing me all too well. But she'd always been rather beautiful. That little fact I hadn't failed to notice, though I'd never told her that I found her to be so.
"Would you like to go to your room now? I can show you where it is," Eriko offered, and then turned to the old lady. "Thank you, obaa-san, I'll not trouble you with my friend here any longer." She tugged at my arm. "Come on, Sei". I gave Eriko a small, mocking bow and obligingly followed.
The ryokan didn't seem to be too big, but the atmosphere seemed cozy, with the high-vaulted ceilings and the spacious hallways. There came the soft tinkling of hanging bells in some corner of the hallway, but I found the trill to be soothing more than disturbing. I saw a faint trail of wispy tendrils of steam rising from a short distance beyond the patio, which is where I would guess the springs are located. I'd removed my boots at the entrance and donned soft slippers just like Eriko had been wearing, and the shuffling of our steps made a dull echo as we made our way to the bedroom. I looked around but it seemed that the other guests were still elsewhere or perhaps resting from the journey.
"Your brothers have arrived?" I queried, to which Eriko nodded. "And how do they feel about their darling Eri-chan wedding a man ten years older with a kid to boot?"
"A bit upset, but that's to be expected." She sighed, but smiled as if remembering a more pleasant memory. "Of course, my father did back off a bit when Yamanobe-sensei showed up at his door and firmly but respectfully demanded that we were to be wed right after my third year in college. I backed him up by saying that I would permanently refuse to date any of them – my father and brothers – if they'd objected too strongly to our plan."
"That hint of a threat, I suppose, they couldn't live with." I chuckled softly, picturing the outraged expression of the Torii men. Being adored could be advantageous for blackmailing purposes, I'd say. "Only you could think of this kind of wedding, though."
"Stop complaining, at least I'm not making you wear a dress," she stated matter-of-factly. I'd adamantly refused to don one with too many frills. "It may be unusual, but I am having you escort Youko down the aisle, you know. She insisted."
"I'm to…what?!" I missed a step or two, almost dropping my backpack in surprise. "Isn't the maid-of-honor supposed to walk alone, from what I'd read of western weddings?"
"Youko said that since we're being unorthodox anyway, we might as well go all the way in doing things slightly different." Eriko grinned then whirled one forefinger in front of my face. "And you're not refusing, Satou-san. Think of it as a sort of penance for having called me dekochin all those years ago."
"Hmph!" I snorted, eyeing her suspiciously. "I'll think of something to make you regret calling me a half-breed, just you wait."
"As long as it's after the ceremony," Eriko replied loftily, tossing her brown tresses as she'd been wont to do, back at Lillian. I ran my fingers through my own chin-length hair. Mine was probably the hairstyle that had changed the most, except maybe for Yumi-chan finally losing her pigtails shortly before Sachiko graduated, after she'd chosen Touko-chan as her petite soeur. I suppose Drill Girl could be charming in her own right – when she wasn't trying to spark intrigue between Sachiko and Yumi-chan.
We walked for a bit more before we arrived at a corner space. Eriko shoved aside the sliding door and ushered me in. I nodded and stepped inside the room. It was sparsely furnished, though with a good-sized futon at one corner and a small kotatsu at the center with a ceramic tea kettle and two teacups on top of it. Beside the futon was a small dresser with a vase bearing one freshly cut white rose. A nice touch, if perhaps a bit too nostalgic.
"Here we are." Eriko spread her hands as if to show off the room. I nodded and plopped down near the kotatsu. "Feel free to rest for a bit, Sei. It'll be a good four hours before dinner will be served down at the dining hall.
"Or, if you'd prefer, you can always head over to the hot spring. It's separate for men and women, and Youko already made her way there just before you arrived." She paused, as if considering what she'd just offered. "But maybe you should just stay here and rest. I'm not entirely sure Youko would be safe alone with you, of all people."
"What? You know she was one of the people I'd never attempted to flirt with back at Lillian." Well, seriously attempted to flirt with, anyway. I did offer to tie her collar ribbon for her, once. But that had been partly mocking her for calling me out for flirting with some first years using the same tactic. I must have looked like I was pouting, though, since a small grin appeared on Eriko's features.
"That was then. We're all adults now – as much as the word could be applied to you, Sei. And more, shall we say, experienced."
Eriko left the room and shut the door behind her before I could retort. I let out a sigh even as I felt my irritation dissipate. I'd never been one to complain for too long, especially over a trivial matter. Except it didn't feel too trivial. Eriko had stopped short of implying that I'd be interested in Youko – for flirting, or maybe something more? I almost snorted. If I'd wanted that, I mentally remind myself, I would've attempted to seduce Youko right before we'd graduated from high school. The fact that I'd never bothered to do so should speak volumes about my romantic interest level in the almighty Ms. Lillian.
That was then. The words hung softly in the air, like the fading echoes of the last notes of a song, like the notes that tend to linger in the consciousness, long after the song had been played out. Had something changed? Or, perhaps, I should be asking what if something hadn't changed? If there was something that I'd adamantly refused to acknowledge, all along.
I decided to stuff my belongings into the closet beside the futon. I found a green yukata marked with the pattern of numerous interlocked white roses inside, along with a towel and other bathing supplies. I debated whether I should in fact take Eriko's suggestion to lounge around at the hot spring seriously, mindful that there was a good chance that I'd probably end up alone there with Youko just as Eriko had stopped short of warning me about. Taking a nap did sound inviting after my tiring trip, but some part of me missed the meddler I'd verbally sparred with not entirely too long ago. The meddler who always seemed to have a leg up on my plans – and had a ready counter to foil any of my antics. The woman whose confident, assured smile almost seemed at odds with the perennial twinkle of mischief that often lit her eyes, though she'd seen fit to glare at me a few times when I'd come to realize that even her well of patience was not inexhaustible after all.
Youko was, after all, the meddler who'd held my head on her lap as silent tears had coursed down my cheeks the night that Shiori had left me, when onee-sama had taken us both to her house and then had left us alone in her room for a while. It was she whose soft, graceful fingers had smoothed my hair from my face even as she had kissed my forehead and promised that I would always have her to turn to, especially after onee-sama graduated. When onee-sama had returned, it was Youko who had gently tucked me into the futon and allowed onee-sama to take her turn holding me close until fatigue had finally forced me to drift off into sleep.
It was Youko who came to me in my dreams then – not Shiori – and had taken my hand and led me deep into a forest of thorns, where branches thicker than my calves choked out the threads of radiant white light that managed to filter in from somewhere above us. We'd kept walking side by side until the very darkness that wrapped us seemed sharply alive. It had been her presence that kept me from wanting to remain cloaked in that darkness, never to emerge. And, until I'd been jolted into wakefulness by the harsh noontime glare streaming in from onee-sama's window, in that shadowy recess where the gloom seemed to cut into my very soul, Youko's hand had never let go.
Sighing, I changed into the yukata they'd thoughtfully set aside for me, slung the towel over my shoulder and resignedly headed for the hot spring. Maybe I did need to revisit that forest of thorns I thought I'd escaped long ago after all.