A/N: I promised Seyan that I would post this one next. So this one is for you, Seyan. I hope you enjoy it. ^_^
Disclaimer: I do not own MSGM or any of its characters. All such honors belong to Oyuki Konno.
Yumi Fukuzawa sighed and gently put her palette down on the table beside her before dropping her brush in a can of turpentine. It was finally done. One more down, but it had been one of the most painful so far. She looked up at the newly completed portrait and wiped the tears from her eyes. Why was God tormenting her like this?
She thought she had lived a fairly normal life, and there was certainly nothing unusual or special about her. At twenty-three years old, she had lived her entire life in this small, rural town on Hokkaido. She had gone to the only school within biking distance of her home; a single building that supported classes all the way from kindergarten through high school given the miniscule population in the area. She had attended a small, local art school after graduation and then obtained her teaching certificate. Now she was a part-time art instructor in the same school she had spent so many years of her life.
Physically she was nothing much to rave about either. She was of average height, although tending to the shorter side, and she had the body of a young teenager hoping desperately to go through a late puberty. In other words she was boyishly slender with few real curves and she had long ago given up any hopes of having to buy C-cup bras. She had mousy, medium brown hair that had a tendency to frizz which was why she typically pulled it up into pigtails. She had large, medium brown eyes that would shed tears much more quickly than she ever wished. Her face was more round than narrow – in other words relatively unremarkable – with a fine chin and a small nose. She had been called "cute" most of her life. Every so often she heard the word "beautiful" come from her father's or mother's lips, but she figured that overstating a child's looks was probably somewhere in their job description. And while she was accomplished in and had been praised by everyone for her one true love, art, her grades throughout her schooling in all other subjects had been only average. So she had no major or distinguishing accomplishments in her youth, nothing special in her appearance or intelligence; absolutely nothing to really single her out as to why she had been so blessed with what she had been forced to go through for so long.
She had started having the dreams just after the summer of her sixteenth year. Almost every dream she had had since then was of the girl portrayed in oils on the canvas in front of her. She had no idea who the girl was. Yumi knew that she had never seen her before. Someone that beautiful would have stood out in her memory, even if she had only seen her in passing on the street. Now, seven years later, she had amassed an even dozen portraits similar to the one now sitting complete on her easel. They were all of the same girl, her long, waist length, raven black hair cascading down her straight, aristocratic back; the features of her face exuding the classical beauty of Japan. She was lithe and supple, her form that of a girl growing into the body of a young woman. You could read the grace by which she moved in her posture, in how she stood and in how she held her arms and hands. But it was always her eyes, her deep sapphire blue eyes that held such poignant pain and sorrow which troubled Yumi the most. Not in any of the many portraits Yumi had painted of the girl was she truly smiling. Oh, the girl's lips curved in the form of a smile in some of the paintings leaning up against the cream colored walls of the one bedroom studio Yumi lived in behind her parent's house in the town of Ashoro, but in none of those portraits did that smile ever reach her eyes.
Almost all of the portraits she had painted were set facing the wall. Yumi could not bring herself to look at them each and every day. Nor could she stand the feelings of frustration and resentment that she sometimes felt emanating from the girl in those portraits. It made her feel guilty and she could not for the life of her understand why!
In this latest portrait the figure, just a girl really, was positioned just right of center of the canvas. She stood in profile to the viewer, her hands clutched to her breast and her face raised towards the heavens as if in prayer; beseeching the almighty for something that would never be. The shaft of light in which she stood highlighted the tracks of tears that could be seen on her high cheekbones as they traced their way to her chin. Moisture collected in the corners and lower lashes of her right eye. A single tear hung defiantly from the corner of her jaw. The lips of her mouth were tightly pressed together, holding back the sobs that Yumi was certain were beating in her breast trying desperately to escape. She wore a one-piece school uniform of a green so dark it was almost black, with a pleated skirt, white sailor collar with a fine line of matching dark green, and a white scarf tied in a knot. Dark brown, somewhat clunky shoes with turned down white socks adorned her feet. Everything around her was much darker and indistinct unless studied closely. If you took the time to really look at her surroundings you would see that she stood in a lovely greenhouse filled with plants and flowers. The only plant caught in the shaft of light was a small, half-meter tall rosebush with red flowers and small green leaves positioned behind the girl. Clutched in her hands was a silver rosary trailing a long necklace of matching beads. That same rosary figured in most of the paintings.
Who was this girl and why was she in such pain? And why had she invaded Yumi's dreams, both sleeping and waking, for the past seven years? Yumi could see her even now if she just closed her eyes.
Over a year and a half ago she had started researching school uniforms, trying to identify the school that used the uniform portrayed in most of the paintings. It had taken so long, but she had finally found a small, prestigious, all-girls academy outside of Tokyo that used the uniform. Yumi had never been to the island of Honshu, let alone anywhere near Tokyo or the small suburban city of Musashino. A little late night snooping in her school's records room had resulted in finding no one that had transferred from Lillian Girls' Academy anytime within the last twenty years. Students left her little rural farming community as fast as they could. They didn't transfer in. As far as she knew her father and mother had been the last newcomers to the little community over twenty-five year ago. They were still sometimes referred to as "the new folk" although it seemed they had finally become accepted members of the community sometime shortly after Yumi had been born in the local hospital.
With another sigh Yumi stood up from her stool and grabbed her digital camera off the much abused end table that also held most of her supplies. She stood back and focused the little camera so that the portrait just fit into the viewfinder if she turned the camera on end. She pressed the shutter and then switched modes to see the result. Satisfied with the photo she plugged the camera into her computer and printed a 5x7 glossy off her photo printer. She gently placed the photograph in an envelope and put it in her purse, checking one last time to make sure she had her airline ticket and boarding pass before turning around and grabbing the large sports bag she was using in place of real luggage. Walking from the entrance of her combined studio and one bedroom apartment to the back door of her parent's house took less than a minute.
"Mom, are you ready?" she called as she entered the kitchen.
"The question is, Yumi, are you ready?" her mother, Miki, chuckled as she walked into the kitchen from the dining room. "This is your first trip to 'The Big City'. Are you sure you have everything?" she asked as she grabbed the car keys from where they hung on a peg next to the refrigerator.
"I figure I'll only be gone for a few days, Mom; a week at most," Yumi grinned, "I think I can go that long without the taste of your wonderful home cooking; but it will be a sacrifice," she said with a grin before giving her mother a hug.
"Are you really sure about this, Yumi?" her mother asked with sudden concern in her eyes as she held onto her daughter's shoulders, "I mean, it is such a long way, and there is no guarantee you will find what you are looking for."
"I have to, Mom," Yumi said tiredly, "I'll go insane if I don't at least try to figure this out. None of the doctors have been able to help. Drugs, psychotherapy, hypnotherapy, sleep therapy, acupuncture, none of it worked to get rid of the dreams. Now I'm starting to see them even during the day. Every time I try to put brush to canvas, the same thing happens. I start out trying for a still-life or a landscape and end up painting her portrait again. This can't go on. Something is pulling me and I just have to stop fighting it and go with the flow. If I'm lucky, if I can find out anything about her, or even just if she ever really existed, then maybe I can get my life back."
"I know, honey," her mother said with a gentle smile as she stroked her daughter's hair, "I'm not trying to stop you. I'm just worried. You will call me when you get to your hotel won't you? You've got your cell?"
"Of course, Mom," Yumi grinned. Having her parent's support her in this wild goose chase was more than she could ever have hoped for. She had been ready for the arguments but they had never occurred. They had simply asked her if she needed any money. She knew they were worried about her, probably as much as she was about herself if not more so. It was just one more reason why she loved them so much. "But I won't be able to call you if we don't get moving," she chuckled.
Her mother laughed and put on her lightweight jacket to ward off the early morning chill of these northern climes. "Then let's get moving girl, daylights awasting."
Yumi joined in her mother's laughter as they headed out to the car and the long trip to the airport. She was suddenly nervous, but everything she had said to her mother was the truth. She had to find this girl, or find out that she did not exist, if she had any hope of holding on to what was left of her crumbling sanity.
-oo-
The small J-Air Embraer E-170 commuter jet touched down at Haneda Airport early in the afternoon of a gorgeous, early fall day. The flight from Tokachi-Obihiro Airport had only taken a few hours, most of the time spent getting through security despite, or maybe because, all she had was her carry-on luggage.
Just getting this far had taken a decent percentage of her savings. Her family had offered to pay for her airline ticket but Yumi had graciously declined. She still had plenty to handle the hotel for a week without seriously depleting her resources. It helped to save money when there was little-to-nothing to do in her small town. Her only real expenses were her art supplies that she ordered from a small, discount distributor via the internet.
She took the train to the M station in Musashino and then a local bus that deposited her just outside the largish but inexpensive bed & breakfast where she had rented a room for the week. The B&B was located within a few blocks of one of the gates for Lillian Girls' Academy. By the time she got to the quaint, Japanese style home it was already four o'clock; too late to go to the school. Besides, she had an appointment with the academy's Director at ten the next morning. Showing up in the woman's office unannounced a day before her appointment would be very bad manners, and Yumi's mother had brought her up properly.
The inn's proprietor, a slender young woman with short dark hair and glasses by the name of Kei Kato, surprised Yumi with how young she was to be in business for herself.
"I get that a lot," Kei laughed when Yumi asked her about it. "When I was in college at Lillian U, I lived here with a wonderful old woman by the name of Yumiko Ikegami who owned the place at the time. She passed away a couple of years ago and left the place to me in her will. All her family had already moved on or died and I was the closest she had to a daughter to leave it to. I turned it into a B&B to supplement my income as an independent accountant." Kei explained all of this with a smile while she led Yumi to a small cottage located inside the grounds of the old estate.
The cottage was only three rooms: a combined living room/kitchen, a small bedroom, and a bath. Despite its diminutive size it was very pretty and well kept. The rooms were bright and airy, painted mostly in pastel colors that were calming and pleasing to the eye. All of the appliances in the kitchen were new and of high quality. There were no telltale rust stains in the sink that would indicate a persistent leak and the insides of the small refrigerator and oven were spotless. The kitchen cabinets and drawers contained an assortment of pots and pans along with some plates, glasses, and utensils. A bright red rice cooker was set on the counter between the sink and the stove. Looking around, Yumi could tell that Kei really adored and cared for the place despite what she said about it simply being something to provide a little additional money.
Yumi thanked the young woman, who first warned her that no men were ever allowed on the grounds without prior permission – and never overnight unless they were your husband – and then told her that breakfast would be served at seven the next morning since Kei had to get up early for an appointment with a client. Yumi assured her that the time was fine and that she would be there, whereupon Kei-san handed her the key and left her to unpack.
Yumi took out the two good dresses she had packed and hung them on a rack in the bathroom where the steam from the shower she planned to take later that evening would ease any wrinkles they had accumulated during the short flight. There was a TV set up in one corner but Yumi had never really gotten into watching any shows. There was a DVD player with a small collection of movies as well, but nothing that she was really interested in just then. A thin guide to local dining sat on the top of a small desk in one of the other corners of the living room. Opening it she saw that someone had put a post-it next to and highlighted a notice about a local dim sum restaurant called Mama Cho's. Whoever it was that had marked up the book had also written "Great!" and "Cheap"!" in large letters next to the restaurant's description.
Well, I guess I now know where I'm going to be eating dinner tonight, Yumi giggled to herself.
-oo-
"Tamura-sensei, your ten o'clock appointment, Fukuzawa Yumi-san, is here to see you," the clerk announced before ushering Yumi into the large, wood paneled office.
"Tamura-sensei," Yumi said, bowing as she entered the large office the next morning, "I apologize for disturbing you. I know you are a very busy woman and I appreciate your taking time out of your schedule this morning to meet with me."
"Nonsense, Fukuzawa-sensei," the grey haired woman rising from behind her desk said with a smile that reached all the way to her sparkling, blue-grey eyes. She was a little over weight, but her energy, more like that of a person thirty years her junior, was evident in the way she moved. "It is always a pleasure to meet a new friend. My, my, you are a young one aren't you?" she giggled.
"Excuse me?" Yumi asked confusedly as she shook the hand that the Director offered her. The older woman had a firm but warm grip, neither domineering nor standoffish. Yumi felt like she was being given a gentle but friendly hug rather than a simple handshake. She decided that she liked the Director very much.
"Don't mind me, child, just talking to myself; and please call me Kaori, everyone does, including the students," she chuckled. "How about we take a seat by the window where we can be more comfortable," she said as she indicated a pair of chairs by a large picture window overlooking the grounds of the tranquil campus. "Can I offer you some tea? It's not too late for English Breakfast blend is it? I can also offer a wonderful Earl Grey or a soothing green tea."
"Um, ah, thank you Kaori-sensei, that would be lovely. I'm happy with whatever you will be having" Yumi said, nonplused at the friendliness of the older woman.
"Then, Eri-chan," she said to the waiting clerk, "could you please bring us some tea; whatever is freshest."
"Of course, Kaori-sensei," the clerk smiled warmly before leaving and quietly closing the door behind her.
"Now, Fukuzawa-sensei . . ."
"P-please, Kaori-sensei, call me Yumi," Yumi grinned.
"Ah, what a pretty name," the Director sighed, "I knew a woman by the name of Yumiko-san, lived not too far from here . . . wonderful woman. Too bad she passed on not too long ago."
"I'm staying at her home, or should I say her former home. I must say that Kato-san must truly love the place the way she is keeping it up."
"Oh, that's so nice to hear, thank you. I always liked Kei-chan. A good head on that girl's shoulders. She'll go far if she lets herself."
Yumi couldn't believe how things had been going so far. She already felt as if she had been adopted into some large family, it was so surprising; and somewhat disconcerting.
"But, back to the topic at hand," the Director grinned at her, "what brings you to us today, Yumi-chan."
"Actually, I was kind of hoping that you might be able to help me, Kaori-sensei," Yumi replied as she reached into her purse and withdrew the envelope and handed it to the older woman. "It may sound a bit crazy, but I was wondering if you could please take a look at that photo and tell me what you think."
"Hmm?" Kaori-sensei replied with a bit of a question mark before she opened the envelope and withdrew the photograph. "Oh, this is wonderful, Yumi-chan. Most applicants bring a resume, maybe a couple of letters of introduction or recommendation, that sort of thing. Well, I guess as an artist, things might be done a bit differently . . . oh, but this is beautiful! Did you paint this yourself?"
"Um, yes, Kaori-sensei, I did, but I am afraid that there may be a misunderstanding. I'm not here for a job."
"Oh, you're not? Oh dear, my apologies," the Director sighed. "When I heard that an art teacher had asked for a moment of my time, I just assumed . . . but this really is remarkable. Our previous art teacher retired at the end of last term, she got married and moved to Kyoto, and we have been looking for someone to replace her ever since. If this photo is anything representative of your usual work, I don't think that I would hesitate to recommend that you be hired."
"Um, that is very kind of you, Kaori-sensei, but, actually . . . "
"I do have one question for you, if I might, Yumi-chan," Kaori asked, looking closely at the photo while seeming to ignore Yumi's comments.
"Yes, sensei?"
"Why is the Rosa Chinensis crying?"
"E-excuse me, sensei?" Yumi squeaked, surprised first that the Director had noticed the subject's tears in the small photo of the portrait, but more surprised at the seeming title she had used. "R-Rosa Chinensis?"
"Um, yes. It's the title we use for one of the three elected officials of the student counsel here at Lillian . . . at least in the high school division," she explained, still looking at the photo rather than at Yumi. "The other two are Rosa Foetida and Rosa Gigantea."
"B-but that means . . . this photo . . . this portrait . . . is of a real person?" Yumi squeaked again, unable to believe what she was hearing. Was it possible? Her hands were trembling where they clutched the arms of her chair, her knuckles white and her heart thumping rapidly in her chest. A sweat broke out on her brow.
"Of course, child. What do you mean? Didn't Sachiko-sama pose for this?" Kaori asked, finally raising her eyes to look at her visitor once again in confusion.
"S-S-S-Sachiko-s-sama?" Yumi stuttered as she tried to repeat the name, finding herself hyperventilating at this new revelation. A name? The girl had a name? She was real! Not just a figment of Yumi's imagination, but a real person! She found herself sitting forward, leaning towards the Director almost in desperation, before she suddenly she felt herself falling as everything began to turn black.
"Oh dear . . . was it something I said?"
Ah, the start of a new story is always exciting. I hope you enjoyed the opening chapter. As always, your reviews and comments would be greatly appreciated.
Take care,
CX
