Author's Notes: I wish you welcome to my first fanfic contribution in many, many years. And alas, it's another dark and angsty take on the Marimite universe. This fic is based on my very liberal interpretation of the events in the anime series, and as such it may contradict the canon in a myriad of ways. Moreover, the cultural context of the fic is rather Western, because I am not very familiar with Japanese culture and thus I have not even attempted to make this story "authentic". Please bear with me.

Rated T, for some objectionable content and long stretches of philosophical musings. You have been warned...

Without further ado, please enjoy! And do write a ton of reviews.

Chapter 1

The day I turned twenty, I cut off my pigtails.

I guess it had been a bit painful, for a moment. To so radically break with the past, to relegate the thing that had been such an integral part of me to the pages of history. Had it been more painful than shaving off all my hair at twenty-five? I could not say.

Now, sitting in an airport taxi on my way to one of the suburbs in western Tokyo, it had been already many months since the moment I had looked into the mirror and seen the once-revered Fukuzawa Yumi as nothing more than a twisted phantasm of her former, pretty self. But now, my English odyssey was over, and truth to be told, that was the only reason I had allowed my hair to grow again. They were still short, barely covering my neck, but I was once more becoming my recognisable self, sufficiently so as to not shock anyone too badly.

That was the curse of Japan, it felt to me. The rock-solid, unchanging land of the rising sun which forbade you from changing, either.

But I guess in life there were always some things which stayed still. No matter how far you wandered, no matter how much you changed, it always seemed to me that some foundations of reality would always be there, if not exactly only for me, then at least for everyone who needed a solid bedrock to lean on.

For a fleeting moment in the taxi, my childhood home Tokyo almost felt like such a bedrock. The bright lights of Shinjuku, the incessant and somehow restless plaques hanging above the convenience stores and random office buildings, the chaotic yet somehow manageable puzzle of low, earthquake-resistant blocks. And everywhere, people were going through the proceedings of their lives; shopping, eating, laughing, whatever.

But reality pulled me back quickly. Because I knew I would find no solace in Tokyo, either.

Once, I must have been like one of those people outside the taxi window. But now when I looked at them – the faceless, meaningless fillers in the miserable story of my life – I actually felt a kind of envy. I envied the ones who were smiling, and I even envied those who were not. Sad as their lives might have secretly been, at least they still had the strength to carry on.

I gazed at the young, handsome salarymen with their navy ties and white pocket squares vis-à-vis their older, more tired-looking counterparts hardened by years of after-work toasts. I saw the perfectly composed office ladies dancing home in their immaculate heels, I let my eyes rest on the pensioners strolling in the pavements with a seemingly carefree air around them. Everything was passing me by, and soon it was all a big blur – a nonsensical mishmash of all the ingredients perhaps constituting something one would call "a normal life".

But it did not make sense to me, just as pretty much nothing had in the last couple of years.

And whatever problems all those strangers might have had, I presumed that at least they did not share the most acute of my concerns, however insignificant that may have been in the grand scale of things. Yes, at least they probably had a roof over their head which they were not forced to share with someone they did not want – and definitely not with someone with whom they had such a turbulent past.

Then again, it was not as if it really mattered. Past was in the past, and no matter how deep one dug, it would not come back – I would never become the pigtailed girl again, and neither would my heart flutter at the sight of the tall blonde I was going to share the room with. It simply did not work that way. So on balance, the arrangement was far better than going back to my parents' house and facing their worried expressions and fussy questions.

But I did feel something when I stepped out of the car and saw my host waiting for me on the pavement. While the taxi driver hauled my modest suitcase from the back compartment, I momentarily just stood in front of the car, looking at my former friend. It had begun to drizzle, and the drops of water trickled down her hair, flattening them ever so slightly, caressing the corners of her eyes all the way down to her cheeks, and for a moment it looked as if she was tearing up.

She was smiling as she stared right back at me, but even her smile, which was just as whimsical as it had been all those years ago, could not conceal her apparent shock, as if she had seen a ghost. And in a sense it was not a far-fetched comparison.

Because that is what we were – ghosts from the past.

But then the moment of awkwardness passed, and when the taxi had curved behind the block, I was captured in one of those extremely close hugs of hers. Despite her apparent astonishment, she managed to even pat me on the head and say something inconsequentially cute, just like in the old days.

I let her lead me to the third floor, into a two-room flat. I reluctantly took off my coat, as if the gesture would somehow finalise my stay in the place.

While Sei offered to hang my coat, I tentatively stepped into what was apparently a combined living room and kitchen. The Western-style room was quite neat, almost no-nonsense like, and as I sat myself on one of the minimalistic white dining chairs I was rather surprised by how tidy it all was. It was definitely nothing like the chaotic studio I had imagined.

I had been inside only a minute or so, and I was already becoming rather fidgety. My host was taking rather long in the hallway, apparently taking the time to move my heavy suitcase into the bedroom. It was an ominous sign – I did not really want to think about sleeping in the same room with another person; I was already being uncomfortable enough. I tried taking a few deep breaths to make myself settle down a little, but I could not focus on it.

Just as my nervousness was becoming unbearable, Sei emerged from the hallway, beaming like a lunatic.

"Would you like some tea or coffee?" she asked. "Or perhaps something stronger to celebrate your return?"

"Coffee would be good, thank you", I replied stiffly.

In fact, coffee was just about the last thing I wanted, but at least having a cup in front of me gave me something I could fidget with good conscience. Something stronger had sounded all too tempting, but my odyssey was supposed to over, I reminded myself, and I still felt a need to maintain some sense of decency, even with someone like Sei.

I looked on as she danced around the kitchen in her dark blue jeans and striped socks, and the way she moved, it almost made the act of making coffee a performance. She was whistling a tune I could not recognize, probably some indie pop piece only she would know.

Looking at her, I could not help thinking that she would have been so much more at home overseas. With her vivacious nature, blonde locks and unrestrained charm, she would have fit right in at my university. In Britain, they had known their indie pop music. They had known many other things as well, including how to make a reserved girl like me become as decadent as the worst of them…

Although that was a life I wanted to leave behind, there was little else I could do than to reflect my supposedly new life against it – the disconnection between the two were simply too great. Where only 72 hours earlier there had been Laura's ginger mane and her plump figure, there was now Sei's blonde curls and her slim shape. Where only 72 hours earlier I had been speaking my clumsy English, now I had to tentatively find my way around my mother tongue again.

My return was supposed to be a happy thing, an opportunity to finally lay rest to my turbulent, confusing and, more often than not, painful university years. For the last months of my stay overseas, I had waited for the day of departure like a bloodthirsty werewolf waiting for the waxing moon. Homecoming was supposed to solve all my problem – yet, being where I was, I was not sure I preferred the change.

I had to admit that Sei was doing her all to accommodate me. She served me coffee, and as we sipped our drinks she kept talking about pleasant, meaningless small things which were easy to listen and comprehend. She was happy to make comments on the weather and recount the latest gossips, and she even shared what she knew of other Lillian students, our only common acquaintances.

"Can you believe that Yoshino is actually married? I'd hate to be that guy who has to put up with her every day", Sei said. "And mind you, she's only gotten feistier as the years have gone by."

"How do you know? Seen her recently?" I replied, more out of politeness than any real curiosity. It was hard to keep my thoughts in the present.

"Yeah, it's fact. I still visit the reunions every year, and each time she seems more bull-headed."

I let out a small, dry laughter. It was charming that they still had those, after so many years. For me, it was so distant; I could hardly even remember how Yoshino looked like. I had ceased all contact with the girls a few years back – I had left Facebook and all our chat groups, mostly to avoid difficult questions to which I had no satisfactory answers. I could hardly reply to Sachiko's or Touko's demanding intimations by saying that I had dropped out of school and was working in a bar – neither could I face Shimako's and Noriko's serenity in my tarnished state.

Sei was the only one of my former friends to whom I had spoken about my hardships, and now I was starting to regret that, too. She was being a gracious host, but at times her playful eyes betrayed concern, and perhaps even pity. I had not told her much, but insightful as she was, I feared that she had figured out the rest of the story on her own.

And it was so hard to sit there in the room with someone with whom I shared nothing but our common past, of which we probably both remembered only the few select moments of passion, embarrassment and pain. But we had been so young back then, so full of ourselves in all our Yamayurikai glory – even I, who had always acted with a measure of modesty, had harboured a feeling of invulnerability deep inside, as if nothing could have ever gone awry.

Of course, time had proven us wrong. I wondered whether Sei was thinking about the same thing. Be it as it may, the only thing I knew for sure that I would have so much rather been in Laura's embrace than in front of the former White Rose of Lillian. We had not really loved each other, not very deeply anyway, Laura and I, but although we had both known that I would return to Japan for good, it had not stopped us from having good time together. Even now, I could only reminisce warmly about how she had kept me awake all night before my flight, how she had done everything I had wanted and how she had made me come so many times that I lost count.

"A penny for your thoughts", Sei's said, interrupting my musings.

"I don't know, Sei", I replied.

I was not sure whether she wanted to hear all the grisly details of my life. After all, this sleeping arrangement was only temporary, a final favour for an old friend. I was going to go my own way, to start anew. Soon we, too, would be nothing but strangers.

"Come on, my darling Yumi. Don't sell our relationship short", Sei said. "It may have been six years, but we're still part of the family, right? Didn't we all make the promise?"

"Six years… It feels more like six decades."

A brief silence ensued, and I took the opportunity to scrutinise my host more closely. Although time had been gentle on her good looks, the subtle lines on her cheeks and the dark shadows under her eyes were easy for anyone to see. As she looked at me, she still sported that crooked smile of hers, but even that playful expression was more reserved now, more troubled.

"Believe me, I know how you feel", Sei said finally. "It's not like we've stayed still all this time, either. But it doesn't mean that we don't care anymore. On the contrary."

As she spoke, she stretched her hand to touch my cheek. I was taken aback by the chills her fingers sent down my spine. I stared at her, almost in shock. If she noticed my reaction, she did not betray that in any way. Instead, she leaned forward further and touched my face with the fingertips of her both hands.

"We all miss you. Those of us who are still here, we talk about you almost every time we meet. Sachiko wants to see you again, and so does Shimako. Even Youko mentions you once in a while. They all miss you… And so do I."

Later in the night, when Sei was already fast asleep, I lay awake beside her and caressed her blonde tresses as I contemplated about my life. I thought about the meaning of my existence – not necessarily in a depressed way, but simply in a philosophical manner. I wondered why I had not made a single good decision after graduating high school; I wondered what had driven me to leave Japan and finally I wondered what had made me come back, just as I was starting to get the hang of my new life overseas. I asked myself how come everything had become such a mess, in relatively such a short time. There were millions of unanswered questions, and I was doing nothing to find answers to them – instead, I was doing the opposite by formulating new ones I could not answer.

"It's all right", Sei whispered sleepily as she stirred from my touch. "We can think about it tomorrow."

In that, she was right.

Afterword: So there you have it, my first Yumi-centered story. The next chapters will feature more old friends and a bunch of conflicted feelings as Yumi will be forced to reflect on her relationship with everyone who still care about her. Thanks for reading, and stay tuned :)