- THE WORDSMITH'S FLOWER -
Story by request. Sei lands a deal with a publisher to write her first novel. With Sachiko gone, the new Red Rose, third-year Yumi, is invited to serve as Sei's inspiration. What can Rosa Chinensis offer the novelist? Coffee? Chocolate? Or maybe the two owe each other more with some overdue feelings.
A/N: My apologies for starting this while I'm still doing Wars of the Roses, but this is a story written on request for a kind reader. The rules were:
1. It had to be Yumi x Sei (this pairing seems to be gaining popularity, and it's thanks to the efforts of other shippers... I'm looking at you, SaTT XP).
2: It had to be grounded more in the canon. No outlandish, over-the-top carnage allowed. =.=
So here it is. I will be in India from the 23rd to the 3rd so I'll be delayed slightly for following chapters. To my treasured reader who asked for this (I do hope you see this, this is for you! XD) and anyone else who might enjoy it, thanks for reading I hope this offering does justice to Yumi x Sei. ^.^
- First Draft -
- Memories of that Precious Summer Afternoon -
Late afternoon, sunset. Yumi's third year at Lillian
"You don't become a writer to make money. You write because you're cocky enough to make a career out of your opinions."
"In that case, isn't a novelist even more arrogant? She reckons people should spend their precious time reading stuff she's made up."
The English literature student with a mop of short light hair gnawed at the butt of her Kawecosports fountain pen, a pitch-black, elegantly crafted piece of German penmanship she had ordered online. Oh yes, she deserved it. In her mind, only a decent-quality pen could accompany her on this glorious journey. Her brow was furrowed in concentration as she stared at the blank sheets and the grid boxes that awaited her inspired wordsmithing - a twenty-first century Murasaki Shikibu in the making.
But the voice behind her back, behind her small swivel-chair, was distracting her.
"So if you're going to be a writer, you had better have something good for the people indulging you. But this is rubbish. Satou Sei, this is a pretentious mess that needs some serious rewriting."
The budding novelist felt her mind go blank at the words. "What did you say?" she challenged, mock-angrily.
Mizuno Youko, her best friend, closest ally, and fierce advocate, shrugged. "This is unreadable."
"Gah." Sei let go of her pen and threw up her hands at Youko's blunt critique. "Give me some credit! I'm a second year at Lillian University and I've already got a job! Amidst this recession!"
Youko just looked at her pointedly.
"Well, I guess technically it is just an internship," added Sei reluctantly, her voice falling to a mutter.
"Unpaid," added Youko.
"I'll get the royalties," countered Sei, perking up.
"If it sells at all."
"Have some faith in me," snapped Sei. "Bestseller, maybe not - but come on, it's Bungeishunjuu! I'm pretty sure they're going to help make sure my novel doesn't just keep the shelves warm."
"I'm well aware you've landed an enviable chance with an old and prestigious publisher," sighed Youko. "The fact that they selected you means they're mindful of your talent and potential. But the fact remains - " She gestured at the pile of paper in her hands. " - This sucks."
Sei groaned, her head hitting the desk, treating Youko to a rather unsightly scene of an author at the end of her tether. "Is it already this late? I'm going home, Sei. I need to be back for dinner." She suppressed a groan at Sei's melodramatic antics. "Look, why don't you just hang loose and forget about classes or this internship until tomorrow? It's only been two weeks since Bungeishunjuu signed you on, and a month since the term started again. Monday's always the start of a new week, you can decide how you want to inspire yourself with a better draft then. Don't write without ideas, or you're just going to waffle. Just like how you've done with this steaming pile."
Sei didn't turn around as Youko opened the door and closed it behind her, leaving her to her own thoughts.
"Inspiration..." she whispered to herself, forgetting to swallow for several seconds. She jerked up from her dispirited stupor, wiping hastily at the undignified drool inching lazily down her chin.
"Youko! Yoohoo!" she shouted deliriously, before remembering the former Red Rose had left her house.
She looked down at her sheets of paper. One of them was soaked. Yuck.
"I'm going crazy," she muttered. "I'm telling myself I'm going crazy, ergo, I'm going crazy. Stupid internship."
She knew she didn't mean it. This was actually an amazing step. Bungeishunjuu was one of Japan's oldest surviving publishing houses, and when their representatives had appeared as a guest lecturer at one of her courses and offered the class applications for an unpaid opportunity to publish with them, she had jumped at the chance. It had taken only one year of tertiary studies in English and American Literature to change her attitudes to work - these days she found herself much more proactive in seeking opportunities to plant roots, to sow seeds, to become something she could see herself as for a long time... a novelist, a writer.
She wanted to change herself.
She wanted to make something of the life that, up until her debacle with Shiori, she had frittered and wasted away.
"Shiori. Youko. Shimako..."" she murmured dreamily, remembering those distant days years past.
Those memories of Lillian, and the occasional photo, were all she had left of her high school life. Even her uniform was gone, donated to Lillian for anyone lucky enough to inherit it. She was still a student at Lillian University, but like Youko and Eriko, still had to leave the Rose title and identity forever. Her life was all hers now; she was free, totally free. And the limitlessness of that freedom was somewhat jarring, even frightening. Her Lillian days had never been free, even after her bondage to Shiori's shadow was severed, but they had still been her happiest. Not her most productive, certainly - she couldn't recall writing even a short story or novella back then. But definitely her happiest.
She missed those times. She missed them. She missed the girls.
She looked down despondently at the title she had written on the stained sheet.
Dreaming Snow.
She wouldn't get anything done that night. She ended up being too busy watching telly, too busy cooking dinner by herself and preparing her notes for the following day's lectures. She needed inspiration, and it had to come quick. The internship would last only for a semester. The actual writing - and the novel's success - was up to her.
Perhaps it was time to pay a quick visit to Lillian, the most inspiring place of all.
It was just before the first lesson of the morning. Touko had been busy cleaning up the mess left behind by the two useless first-years - thanks to their blundering and incompetence, the registry for the culture festival's participants was completely out of order. Now Rosa Chinensis would have to personally take over and correct the mess of papers. "We're so sorry," squeaked the panicking juniors, bowing frantically before the Red bouton, whose hands were planted angrily on her hips. "It won't happen again!"
"Not good enough," snapped Touko, stomping a reproachful foot on the floor of the long corridor. "Now it's more work for Rosa Chinensis! Why did I even bother asking you to help if you were just going to delay our progress?"
"Please forgive us," bawled one of the first-year students, her voice cracking and tears beginning to well in the face of Touko's inquisitorial, ruthless interrogation.
Touko bristled. "Forgive? A blunder like this? From you?" the self-satisfied girl asked incredulously, as if there was no more audacious suggestion in the world.
"Touko, no more! It's alright," reproached the authoritative voice of Rosa Chinensis. Touko whipped around, her angry face turning into a contrite and apologetic one almost instantly. The two girls gasped in awe at the beauty standing before them.
Since Ogasawara Sachiko's graduation, the incumbent Red Rose had lost the pigtails that once made her look so innocent and childish. How that seemed an age away from her current profile, eighteen summers, fresh, friendly, and violently attractive. More regal than before in her dark green uniform, her dark brown hair now draped past her shoulders, her tresses not as long as her predecessor's but coming quite close. Her lips were fuller, thicker, richer. Her brown eyes, while still open and fresh, had been tempered with the wisdom and guile that all Roses must possess, no matter which colour. "I'll sort it out. I won't let you two off so easily, though - Touko will find you something else to help with."
The two girls squeaked helplessly, and Touko rubbed her hands in glee. "With pleasure, onee-sama," she sniffed.
The first-year pair scurried away, and Rosa Chinensis en bouton turned to look at her grande soeur. "It still feels surreal to see people address you with such awe... 'Rosa Chinensis'," she mused. "I know it's only been a few months, but it doesn't quite suit you."
"I know," admitted Yumi, mature enough to know that the jibe did not warrant a reproach. Touko's honesty and frankness didn't make her many friends, but to Rosa Chinensis, such bluntness was a blessing. Touko might treat her almost cruelly, as sadistically as when she tortured Yumi during her most difficult time in her first year. But as far as Rosa Chinensis was concerned, Touko was the perfect petite soeur. She would make a fine Red Rose, perhaps even more fearsome than her predecessor Sachiko. She flicked back her long brown hair. "It's bizarre to me, too."
It was even stranger that Sachiko was no longer here anymore, no longer here as the Red Rose of the school.
Yumi's cellphone began to ring. Forcing herself out of her reverie, she flipped out the screen, peering at the Unknown Number. Class was starting soon, she should have known better than to forget to turn it off. Telemarketers? Sighing, she received the call and brought the phone to her ear. "Sorry, I'm not interested - "
"Hey, Yumi-chan!"
It took several seconds for Yumi to work out who it was.
"Yumi?"
Rosa Chinensis froze, her expression suddenly still, her smile lost.
That voice.
Oh, God. That voice.
Drawn up short, her heart seized by a hundred different melodies, Rosa Chinensis' trembling hand pushed the phone close to her ear. Touko stared at her grande soeur in concern, but she wouldn't understand. Yumi turned away, avoiding Touko's gaze (one glance and Touko could instantly deduce Yumi's heart). "Rosa... Rosa Gigantea?"
"That would be Shimako these days," came the smarty-pants voice. "It's Sei. Sei!"
What an eternity, what a void of time it had been since that siren's words reached her ears.
Yumi bit her lip. "Gokigenyou, Sei-san."
"I'm at the school, you know! Right by the gate. Are you free to see me?"
"Don't you have lectures?" asked Yumi, more curtly than she intended.
"Not today. I'm even more of a bum than two years ago, Yumi-chan. Can't you afford to even drop me a hello? Or..." Sei's voice grew more uncertain. "You're not in the mood?"
Yumi closed her eyes. "Fine. I will be at the gates. Not now. At recess. So you'll have to wait. But don't be late. I'm the one who's got a timetable."
"Oh, right. Okay," came Sei's voice, and she sounded rather disappointed the the lacklustre welcome. "See ya."
Yumi hung up, pocketing her phone. She bit her lip already regretting that she had agreed to see her. She knew why Sei had been expecting a bit more, but she didn't know what to do.
It hurt. It hurt to remember that summer afternoon, the day the idol of her generation tried to kiss her. Oh yes, she had kissed her back, kissed her like she had never dared to kiss anyone else, not even onee-sama. She hadn't stepped foot into Sei's former classroom since then. She was afraid she would cry if she did.
Two questions immediately popped into her morose mind:
One: now that Sachiko had graduated and was no longer a student at Lillian, and therefore no longer soeur, did she still count as Yumi's grande soeur? Did Yumi count as Sachiko's petite soeur, as her bouton?
Two: Indeed, why had she the guts back then to kiss Sei, but not Sachiko? She had never thought about that before.
The last couple of months had been hard on her thanks to Sachiko's departure. Everything had been thrown off-track - her plans with her, Kashiwagi's presence in Sachiko's life, and the pressures of the Ogasawara family on Sachiko herself.
And Sei had quite the knack for making things yet more complicated.
Sei wasn't sure what to think as she waited and waited. What had happened? Yumi's voice was so much more womanly, so much more mature. It also sounded a lot less enthusiastic than she expected. This wasn't the welcome she had imagined. But there was no longer any time to think, as the long-haired girl walked into sight. Sei felt herself exhaling harder than usual as their eyes met, and she could see Yumi's long, freely-flowing brown tresses.
"Rosa Chinensis," murmured the former White Rose.
Yumi stopped and stared at the tall woman before her. Once the latter was a girl, but now she was really a woman in a white shirt and jeans. Yumi had faith she was catching up (slowly), but Sei remained, as usual, somehow just out of reach. A grown woman. That sounded so much more seductive than anything Sei could have thrown at Yumi when she was the White Rose. "I'm right here, Yumi-chan," said this grown woman, her face full of compassion, affection, and the understanding she reserved just for Yumi, her special girl. Yumi knew this understanding was uniquely for her, she just knew it.
"Sei... Sei-san..." Yumi felt her bottom lip wobble, but she gulped hard, blinking angrily and staring straight past Sei's eyes, focusing on the trees and gate behind her head. "Welcome back to your alma mater. As you can see, it is my third and final year of high school. Sorry for keeping you waiting. May I take you somewhere? The headmistress's office, perhaps?"
"I can tell," murmured Sei, rolling her gaze over Yumi's long hair. "Nah," she then shrugged, catching Yumi off-guard again. "I already dropped by my old classroom. Where it all ended with me."
"No," said Rosa Chinensis calmly. "Where it all started."
Now it was Sei's turn to blink. "I don't understand."
"Of course you don't understand," said Rosa Chinensis, her foot turning to walk in the direction of the main block.
"Yumi, wait! You're leaving already?" called Sei, surprised - and somewhat afraid. What was going on? This was hardly going according to plan.
Yumi stared sharply at Sei. "You don't know what it means to live in the embrace of a warm shadow, a shadow so tender it leaves a mark on every girl it touches. But it is only a shadow. Just as Shimako-san, Noriko-chan, and Shizuka-sama searched for your shadow in Rome, so too do I live in your shadow, touched and kissed in my most vulnerable corners but unable to return the shadow's caress."
Yumi turned on her heel and excused herself from Sei's presence, leaving the writer in a stunned state of discombobulation.
After school
The coffee tasted bitter. To the former White Rose, just one teaspoon of sugar was plenty. But Yumi needed two and a half to make it just bearable. "Sorry for chasing after you," said a smiling Sei, gazing at the reluctant senior student across from the cafe's round table. No one noticed them, and neither did they pay any attention to their fellow patrons. The quiet chatter around them was nothing compared to their conversation in the present moment. "I really am. Apparently, you're not really interested in talking to me, let alone catching up."
"Well, you caught me anyway. Don't you have class?" asked Yumi, adjusting her uniform's necktie. Her mannerisms and words had lost the politeness that once characterised her sometimes timid personality. But even if Yumi was not absolutely nervous about seeing Sei now, she could justify it by reminding herself of Sei's non-status at Lillian Girls' Academy. Sei was no longer a member of the school, let alone playing an executive role. It was Yumi who had reached the zenith of student influence and authority. She, the Red Rose! Now, they could speak as true equals.
"You've been asking me that an awful lot," sighed Sei. She lifted her eyes from Yumi and looked down at her white cup. She knew it would be strange speaking to Yumi as an equal, but not as awkward as this. "Have I done something to annoy you?"
Yumi smiled stiffly. "It's wonderful to see you again, it really is. Is there something I can help you with?"
She didn't sound convincing in the slightest, but Sei decided to give up on finding out the reasons for such a frosty reception for now. "I'll cut to the chase." She leaned forward, her arms pressing on the table. "I've been signed on for my first book," she said plainly. She was going to tease Yumi with some suspense and a flourish, but the situation clearly didn't merit her original plan. "Bungeishunjuu has given me an internship I can use to write a novel with."
"Congratulations, Sei-san," complimented Yumi robotically, wrenching her stiff lips into a smile. "You're now a novelist, then. A wordsmith. It's so wonderful to see you pursuing your career so passionately."
"So here goes," continued Sei, taking a deep breath. She stared into Yumi's uncertain eyes again. "I'm feeling drained and unmotivated. So I need inspiration. And I want inspiration from you."
Yumi stared back at her, gobsmacked. "Excuse me?"
Sei breathed a sigh of relief to herself. So it took a bit of daring to shake Yumi out of her icy cool... just like her predecessor. Things still weren't as they were last year, or two years ago, but at least she had managed to be the audacious heroine Yumi always looked up to. Maybe they had just forgotten what it was like to actually be in each other's presence again. "My house is empty during the day, and most of my classes are in the morning. My schedule is actually pretty close to your timetable. When you're done with council work, drop by and make me coffee."
"Only you can tell someone to make you coffee so shamelessly," blurted Yumi, not knowing why she was laughing so shrilly. "Only you, Sei-san!"
"What do you say, Yumi-chan? Oh, sorry - I meant, Rosa Chinensis," drawled a smirking Sei, the last two words rolling off her tongue in that sensual, deeply feminine way only she could manage without looking or sounding ridiculous. She knew the air was beginning to feel lighter. Yumi had finally stopped giggling and now she was silent, her eyelashes peeking behind brown bangs.
"Tell me," insisted the older woman.
Yumi glanced at Sei's warm grey eyes. She smiled shyly.
"You look lonely, Rosa Chinensis," observed the budding novelist, her voice noticeably gentler. She felt relief washing over her. Seeing Yumi smile made all the difference. She stopped herself from mentioning Sachiko. Half of her wanted to bring up Yumi's former grande soeur, but something in her gut warned her that to even speak her name now would spoil everything. She raised her arm hesitantly, and for a moment it had stopped. But when their eyes met again, and Yumi did not move, that slender arm reached over the table and touched the soft cheek of the Red Rose.
"How perceptive of you, Sei-san," replied Yumi, looking away as she felt Sei's skin against hers.
The writer paused, gazing at Yumi's downcast eyes for several quiet minutes. The latter could smell the plasticky, cheap cafe coffee, and just by virtue of it being sipped at by Sei, it smelled wonderful.
"I missed you, Yumi-chan."
"Me too," blurted Yumi, unable to mask her honesty any longer. "I still miss you." Blushing, she stared up into Sei's warm silver eyes. She felt those irises enveloping with their owner's kindness, with the same warmth of the flickering sun that shone in that old classroom they bade farewell in. She wanted to speak, but she was too conscious of Sei's finger and thumb nestling her chin. It was infuriating how much she had changed since Sachiko's departure, yet how little her complicated feelings for Sei had shifted. Why did she still melt in Sei's caress? Why did she hang on every word she said?
Was she now about to hang on every word she wrote?
"Yay or nay?" murmured Sei.
"Hey?" sputtered Rosa Chinensis, flushing a deeper shade of beetroot.
Sei smiled a crafty smile. How blessed she felt, that their goodbye hadn't been final. Now here was something she could work with! "So it's settled, then. Time to take the next step, sweetheart. You're going to provide me with inspiration, Rosa Chinensis. No - you're going to be my inspiration."
NEXT DRAFT: DAY ONE AT SEI'S. COFFEE. COUCHES. THE MEMORIES GROW MORE PAINFUL.