- The Wordsmith's Flower -
A/N: Welcome back and thanks for reading this Yumi x Sei story, written on behalf of a request a few months ago. I hope you'll continue to enjoy this interpretation of Sei and Yumi's future... :)
Yumi has now finished reading the first draft of Sei's story: a not-so-subtle confession of the contradictory feelings that fester between them. Longing, desire, resentment, insecurity, loneliness - to the adoring girls of Lillian Academy, Sei and Yumi have both got it together.
But when it comes to facing down their emotions toward each other, they have "a long way to go", according to Yumi herself. How will the Red Rose and her wordsmith senpai move forward, now that their feelings are out in the open...?
- Fifth Draft -
- Sculpted by Your Hands -
Fresh from an afternoon shower (walking back from college was agony in this baking summer heat), Youko turned the page and set down the draft manuscript. Feeling rather hot, she reached for her Daikin remote and switched on her room's air con. She slipped out of her jeans and put on a more comfortable pair of denim shorts, before switching her blouse to a sensual red tank top.
After a week of reading every day, she had finally finished Sei's soon-to-be-submitted novel.
She paused, mulling over the experience of reading Sei's work as she fell back down onto her bed.
"Unbelievable," she breathed, almost inaudibly. "You've really done it. You've written your first novel for the world to enjoy."
She smiled to herself. How deeply had Sei changed from her days as Rosa Gigantea en bouton - no more the self-indulgent, self-loathing troublemaker, oh no! Not even the cheeky if kind and gentle White Rose of final school years gone by. The healing was complete. Sei was at peace with Shiori - perhaps she had been ever since her final lap at Lillian. But something else was troubling her now. Youko, as her best friend, could clearly see it.
The novel wasn't just the final product of her internship with the publishing firm. It was a cry for help and advice.
"What should I do?" Youko could almost hear Sei's agonized voice right now.
The former Red Rose pursed her lips. It wasn't just the rampant eroticism that got to her, nor the piercing emotion that seemed to stab at Youko from every page. It was how genuine it felt, how hopelessly obvious the inspiration of this story was. Ah, yes - the tainted daemon, hurt by previous loss, took an innocent mortal lover but stopped short of accepting that lover's faithful blessing, abandoning her and herself to eternities of loneliness.
"I've seen this movie before," muttered the former Red Rose sarcastically to herself.
You looked to Shiori-san like an angel, Shimako as a human, and now...
"Sei, you fool," she murmured to herself. She bit her lip. "Do you know what you're risking with this? Sachiko's ire will be nothing compared to the turmoil in your own heart."
She gazed out the window of her room. "Not that this is criminal, but... Yumi is Yumi. She will have to gather the strength to face Sei's passion on her own. She can't rely on Sachiko's help, let alone mine." Her eyes glimmered as she stared at the quiet street outside her house. "Yes, this is a tempest Yumi must weather with Sei alone."
But surely, surely, thought Youko to herself, as she closed her eyes and thought of Satou Sei, that this was a novelist's burden - to be inspired by their own personal struggles.
Sei reclined back against her chair, breathing heavily. She raised her head to the ceiling, gaze distant and thoughtful. She raised her Panasonic remote, pressing "On" so that the cool air would save her from the explosive heat sweeping the neighbourhood.
"What are you thinking in that pretty head of yours?" came that voice, interrupting her absent reflections.
That voice, so familiar. Yet so different, almost unrecognizable. Just ever so deeper. But it wasn't the pitch that made the difference, but how certain words were emphasized. Intoned. Drawn out. Sei turned around, stretching and yawning. The small pile of traditional gridded paper, filled with her writing, lay forgotten on her desk. Her haunting eyes fell on the longhaired brunette sitting unobtrusively on her messy, unkept bed. The Red Rose looked as adorable (but stately) as ever in her school uniform, and her necktie was loosened carelessly. A symbolic break with the past? An author needed to see literary and mythic connections everywhere. Even Yumi's necktie could tell a story.
"Yumi," said Sei, no longer using the suffix "chan". After all, Yumi had told her off, warning her to never use it again. Or else...
Or else what?
She would kiss her until she couldn't breathe anymore? Sei never did know what the consequences would be if she defied Yumi, but whatever punishment she had in mind, it wouldn't be today, observed the writer to herself drolly, as Rosa Chinensis sneezed loudly into her handkerchief. "One month," she said. "One month before the editor gets back to me. So I guess I haven't got much of an excuse to stay away from classes. And by the way, you're the first girl I've ever met who'd catch a flu in the most sweltering of summers."
"I was always the silly one in the gang," muttered Yumi, and Sei laughed.
"That you were," replied the writer fondly, gazing at her wistfully. How swiftly the seasons passed. Like a blink of an eye. No longer would she be able to see Yumi's pigtails. She was a different woman now, and she had to accept that. Rosa Chinensis. "You may be the most popular girl in the school, but you always will be the silliest one among us, the klutz. For that, we'll always love you."
Yumi sat back against the wall too, closing her eyes. "This place will soon become my home, too," she muttered mysteriously, noticing Sei's uncomfortable face. She smiled faintly. "You're not about to back out now, are you?" she challenged, and once more Sei felt her heart racing again, like on so many occasions after that fateful encounter in the Yamayurikai common room. "A sculptor should never abandon her sculpture."
"What imagery," chuckled the novelist weakly. "That's an interesting allusion you've got there." Yes, that was how crap her comebacks had become in Yumi's presence. How far she had fallen.
And Yumi knew it. "I was in literature class yesterday, and we learned about some classics from the West. Apparently, they really admire the Greeks. And we read about the story of a sculptor who fell in love with his own sculpture, expert as he was in his craftsmanship. Taking pity on him, the goddess of love made the sculpture into a real woman."
Sei turned around on her swivel chair, scooting closer to her bed and staring at Rosa Chinensis. "I think I can see where this is going..."
"Oh, you do, because if you were honest with yourself, you'd know exactly what you did to me for two years... and continue to do. You sculpted me, clay in your hands, influenced me like no other... and now you've fallen in love with your creation. You can barely admit it through your magnificent novel." Yumi peered at Sei, before blowing her slightly red nose into her handkerchief again (she tried her best to loook restrained, but her elegance didn't quite meet Sachiko's yet). "I have faith you'll be honest about us, but I don't know if it'll be today."
"Then I'll try, today. What should I do, Yumi? I've been at a loss as to how the two of us can move forward... together... after our little exchange up in the Yamayurikai lounge. Sachiko has no right to decide your path, and well, I'm single. There's nothing stopping us. But why is the past holding us back...?" asked Sei sincerely, reaching out with a single, hesitant hand.
Yumi reached forth and took it. Sei almost jumped at the warm, firm clutch. "I have loved you," said Rosa Chinensis quietly, "for so long. I have thought about you, so deeply. Even more so since you wrote this novel. Your letters seeped into my bleeding heart, your words, seared into my mind. You made me like this. You have shaped so much of my experience in Lillian. And beyond. I would never have complained if you left it at that. But clearly, you've also been shaped by what you did, because you have declared your love for me, like that ancient sculptor."
"I love this artistic discipline you're associating me with," chuckled the wordsmith. "Sculpture is all about feeling, stroking, and moulding, I know that much."
Yumi slowly leaned forward, her expression more curious than lustful. "A little kiss, huh? Just like that yearning, conflicted peck you gave me two years ago? Don't worry," said Sei quietly and with newfound confidence, her smile as charming and sincere as ever. Yumi began to tremble in her grip.
"I won't hurt you," whispered the writer. "A good sculptor treats her statue with the utmost reverence. I do, after all, have my pride too. And the last thing I want to do is break your heart."
"I wouldn't know," argued Yumi quietly, as Sei brushed aside her brown bangs. "I don't know what happened after the goddess of love brought that statue to life. Maybe the sculptor abandoned the woman. Now wouldn't that be sad?"
"That would have made him a pathetic, despicable man," Sei said immediately, cupping Yumi's tender face in her two hands. Yumi was blushing harder now, as Sei's pained expression drew even closer, until she could smell Sei's warm breath - a curious blend of espresso shots and coffee blends that she couldn't even recognize. Before she could start pondering on whether she should start frequenting more cafés, Sei had pressed her forehead against Yumi's lightly. A sharp intake of excitement, and Yumi was breathing heavily in anticipation, putty in Sei's hands.
"You were always feeling me up, and I even kissed you," whispered the Red Rose in wonder. "Why is it such a big deal for us to touch now?"
"Because it's so much more special. This bond between you and I... it changes in form, but we are haunted by its familiarity. By how intense that familiarity is. I once played around with you because you really were lots of fun, but I couldn't be more serious about being good to you now. I need... I need to tread really carefully from now on. I would hate myself for hurting you."
"Then pull away. Take a breather," suggested Yumi bluntly. "You could do anything to me here and now, and I'd let you. That's how far I've fallen for you, ex-Rosa Gigantea. But if you really want to shape me into your lover, you'd take your time with me. And besides..." She sniffled again. "I'm not enjoying my cold."
Sei nodded, sensing the seriousness behind Yumi's words. The logic was impeccable. It wasn't long ago that they faced up to the simmering feelings they harboured for one another. Dealing with those irresistible, tempestuous emotions was another thing. Yes, Sei wanted Yumi, and had she followed her instincts she would have laid the flu-struck Yumi down on her bed and possessed her like the daemon did to the artist in her novel.
But an even more basic part of her told her that today needn't - shouldn't - be the day.
They still had much more to think about.
"You want to change into something more comfy?" asked Sei, as she pulled away from Yumi. Yumi blinked up at her. "You should probably have a nap. Please stay here. Don't leave yet: I'll keep you warm. Tuck you in after you've gotten into some fresher clothes."
"I'll have whatever you wear to bedtime," proposed Yumi quietly.
Somehow, that simple, straightforward suggestion was more titillating than any tease or grope that Sei could offer.
Wearing Sei's pyjamas, the sleeping Yumi was breathing lightly, but her cold had subsided somewhat. Sei minded her bedside, placing a mug of hot water near her. She kneeled down and placed an arm next to Yumi's still, blanketed form. Silence overtook her lips, but her mind was still bursting with different questions.
"What would have happened if I had met your innocent person before I fell in love with Shiori?" wondered the writer, clasping her head and mussed tresses in one hand. She stared at Yumi's closed eyes, at her slightly parted lips, and she felt despairing affection overcoming her briefly. She clutched Yumi's hand tighter.
My soulmate. My confidante. My refuge. My adorer.
"Yumi. My Red Rose. You're this writer's patron and inspiration."
Yumi didn't reply; her quiet snoring was the only response Sei could enjoy. She put her head to the mattress and allowed herself to slowly drift away, not realizing that Yumi had been awake all along and was now looking at her. Rosa Chinensis stared at Sei's weary face, admiring the contours and almond angles of the former White Rose's countenance. She indulged in several more minutes of silent gazes, before closing her eyes at last and joining Sei in the world of dreamscapes.
Sei didn't care if she caught Yumi's illness afterwards.
Her efforts were coming to fruition... sculpted into reality, as Yumi would say.
Soon, her novel would be in the bookshops and her internship complete. Somehow, the noble task of writing this book seemed less important than the things she needed to sort out with Rosa Chinensis.
Next draft: As Sei perfects her story, how will Yumi come to terms with the new relationship they share? Next chapter - Yumi's perspective. Two years of unspoken contradictions.