Seventeen
And she is seventeen again, subject to subordination. The empress deserves a bow and a cup of black tea. There is a shifting of collars and pleats and hands clasped to give praise to the divine. Yumi saw Sachiko in her Lillian's uniform and remembered how painfully attractive the Rosa Chinensis was.
Seventeen, when the world revolved around one person. When cousins and Algebra were the enemies and amusement parks and cheap umbrellas were the allies. When complete and total allegiance deserves a perfumed handkerchief pressed close to her face. When the question wasn't Will we crash and burn? But rather: Will we fly together?
Innocence lost and wisdom gained.
Onee-sama, Yumi wanted to say, real life is difficult.
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a/n: Because I feel like Oyuki Konno will not give me my Sachiko/Yumi. Yes I will cry. Bitter. Hard. Tears.