Chapter 12: Mirrors

It was the frantic hoof beats sloshing against the grass that made Yumi turn around at first. She could see a lanky figure emerging from the darkness under the trees, messy hair billowing around in the wind, long arms dancing in the air. The woman who was dashing straight towards her looked like a wild animal who had just awoken with the nightly crickets and was ready to pounce on her in the dark.

Even before Yumi could clearly see her face, she already knew who it was. She recognized the pattern of her footfalls, the shape of her body. Her heart immediately thumped harder in her chest, the small bit of uncertainty that had haunted her throughout the week melting into gratitude.

When the light hit Sei's face, and Yumi could see that the older woman's eyes were locked directly on her, she blushed. She felt the intense focus of Satou Sei's attention very sharply in that moment, an intensity that awoke those feelings between them in mere seconds, wordlessly. This time, Yumi didn't resist it; she stood tall in the spotlight of Sei's gaze and didn't flinch.

When Sei reached her, she cupped Yumi's face with both her hands. A long, whistling breath escaped Sei's lips, a breath of excitement and exhaustion. It was contagious. Forgetting where she was for a moment, Yumi let her eyes flutter closed against Sei's touch. She could feel Sei's face moving closer, as if to kiss her—and without thinking, she allowed this, too.

But before their lips had touched, Yumi felt the vibrating voice of reason playing its song against her back, jolting her into reality once more.

"Isn't that a bit greedy?" the voice said. "Does it trouble Sei-sama that much to wait more than five seconds between people?"

On the surface, the words had been directed at Sei, but Yumi knew that the intention was to shame them both. Yumi pulled away immediately on reflex and turned around to face her Onee-sama.

"Pardon us, Onee-sama," Yumi said, her gaze falling downward, just as it always had whenever Sachiko chided her. At this point, it was mostly out of habit, mostly out of show. Even now, it was easy to fall into the role of the obedient little sister and she wasn't quite sure how to ease out of it yet.

Once the tone of Sachiko's voice had had its effect, though, Yumi couldn't help but suddenly wonder about her Onee-sama's exact words. "Greedy?" Yumi mumbled. She looked up at Sachiko as the older woman stepped out from the shadow of the gate. She seemed to be staring up towards the peak of the hill from which Sei had descended.

Yumi twisted her neck and followed Sachiko's gaze. She could just barely make out the shape of Katou Kei, who appeared to be staring into space—or perhaps deliberately looking away. Yumi couldn't understand the connection.

"Indeed, this was rather greedy of me. My apologies," Sei said in her usual smirking tone. She gestured towards Yumi with a sweep of her right hand. Her left hand was still pressed defiantly against Yumi's face. "Did you want to do the honors instead, Sachiko?"

"Continue speaking such nonsense, and I will think twice about leaving Yumi alone with Sei-sama again," Sachiko said, but there was an odd gleam in her eye. Yumi was surprised to see the shadow of an amused smile. "I trust that a senpai with such a good reputation would know better than to teach my imouto to engage in public displays of affection."

"She's learned that very well on her own," Sei said, and right away Yumi felt blood rushing to her cheeks.

Again, Sachiko's gaze seemed to fall very pointedly at the top of the hill where Katou-san sat. "What if she had seen you, Sei-sama?"

Sei cocked her head to the side and was quiet for a short moment. "Ah," she replied, glancing at Yumi with concern. "You're right. Very true. My mistake, my mistake."

Sachiko nodded in apparent acceptance, though Yumi still could not piece together what they were talking about. Her Onee-sama turned towards the street that sat beyond the school. "There's a car waiting for us at the corner. Shall we go?"

At first, Yumi thought that Sachiko had been addressing her, as they had already planned to spend the evening together. To her surprise, though, she found that Sachiko was looking directly at Sei, a question written in her expression.

"I have somewhere to be tonight," Sei replied.

This time Sachiko smiled; it was a small, conspiratory smile that Yumi could not interpret at all. "Then let us take you, Sei-sama."

Sachiko allowed Sei to grasp Yumi's hand without objection, and the three of them crossed beneath the gates to reach the outside world. Yumi raised her head up to watch Sei's face as they passed street lamp after street lamp, the light fading in and out on their way down the block, Sei's features transforming as they moved along.

Sei's eyes were still clear with deliberate intention, as they always were—but she looked a bit too serene, too relaxed with just a hint of tension beneath the muscles of her face. It was like she was holding onto a last reserve of energy that she was waiting patiently to unleash somewhere, on someone.

For a brief flash, Yumi hoped that it would be her. She imagined Sei pushing her hard against the bed once again—or the wall, or the floor—and pressing a warm mouth to Yumi's neck. The thought filled her belly with enough fire that she felt momentarily embarrassed to be standing so close to her Onee-sama while thinking such things about someone else.

She shook her head quickly. No, she thought, it was time to let those patterns go. She was a grown woman, and she had already spent the night with Sei once, with no shame, with no need to apologize to anyone, with no desire to run to the chapel with a rosary in her hand to ask Maria-sama for forgiveness.

Smoke from the idling car hit Yumi in the face and brought her attention back to the dim sidewalk where they all stood together. When the driver opened the door near the back, Sachiko gestured courteously for Sei to go in first.

But when Yumi moved to slide in after her, Sachiko pressed a hand to her shoulder, and gave her a rather pointed look. "Yumi, I will go first," she said, leaving no room for negotiation. She stepped into the car and ducked her head, slipping into the middle seat.

She would let Yumi walk with Sei, but Sachiko appeared to have no intention of letting them sit beside each other. Maybe this is the wisest choice, Yumi thought, in spite of the frustration she felt underneath her self-control. She couldn't be certain what the reasoning was, but obviously Sachiko had now directly seen them together in a way that she hadn't before. Interestingly, Sachiko didn't seem exactly bothered by it—concerned was more the word.

The driver closed the door after Yumi crawled inside, and before long the hum of the idling engine grew slightly louder, and the crunching sound of tires kicking up loose asphalt emerged from below them. There was a little light overhead, so that the compartment wasn't completely dark, but it was dark enough for the driver to see the road clearly, for the windows to have lost their mirrored effect.

Yumi looked over at the two women who sat across from her. They were huddled a little closer together than Yumi expected and they were murmuring to each other in the corner. To her mild shock, she noticed that Sachiko's hand had fallen lightly on top of Sei's. She had a sympathetic look on her face.

"It's here," Sei said, loud enough for Yumi to catch it. Sei passed what looked like a business card over to Sachiko, who took it delicately between two fingers, apparently careful not to smudge the glossy gold lettering that was etched across it.

"Ah, yes, I thought so," Sachiko replied, nodding her head. "This hotel has a very popular restaurant that works quite well for these kinds of occasions. You may have trouble getting in without a reservation, Sei-sama."

"Oh, you think so?" she asked, though her voice sounded completely unconcerned as usual. "I guess I'll have to sneak in, then. Or maybe I can crash someone else's reservation. 'Satou' is a very common name, after all."

Sachiko raised an eyebrow. "To be perfectly honest, I strongly suggest against that. Wouldn't that risk drawing undue attention to yourself, Sei-sama? If they discovered the situation immediately and threw you out, wouldn't that defeat the purpose of coming in unnoticed? To begin with, you're not exactly properly dressed for such a place, either."

Yumi looked back and forth between them, growing increasingly confused. Finally, when Sei had paused to consider what Sachiko told her, Yumi figured she had found an opening and raised her hand. At first, they ignored her, so she wiggled it a bit with frustration.

"Excuse me," she said, "but what are we talking about here?"

Sei turned to Yumi, leaning forward to look past Sachiko. "Oh," she said dismissively, with a smile, "I'm on my way to an omiai."

"O-omi—," Yumi stuttered. She could feel Sachiko's disapproving stare from the corner of her eye, but she ignored it and met Sei's gaze. She couldn't form the words to ask the question—or rather, the hundreds of questions—that played through her mind in that instant, but Sei seemed to understand nonetheless.

"Don't worry, Yumi-chan, the omiai is not for me," she quickly replied, giving her a wink. "You'll know when I'm having one because you'll be sitting across from me, right?"

Yumi blushed at exactly the same time that her Onee-sama threw Sei a sour look.

"I would appreciate it very much if Sei-sama did not toy with Yumi like this," Sachiko said.

At this, Sei seemed to become thoughtful, scratching her chin reflexively. "Hmm, you might have a point there. When I used to say things like that before, it didn't have to mean anything. Now, though, it's a little dangerous to imply something like that to Yumi-chan, isn't it?"

"Sei-sama should not make promises that she does not intend to keep. That is all," Sachiko grumbled.

Sei grinned, nodding deeply in what seemed like a small bow of apology. "I shall not, I shall not."

Yumi stared at the both of them with fascination. She wasn't quite sure if she had understood correctly at first, but when she looked carefully at her Onee-sama's face, at the expression of warning that she was throwing Sei, she figured that her inklings were probably mostly correct.

Somehow, Sachiko knew about them. For how long, she wasn't sure, but in spite of her apparent misgivings, the air around her was not one of disapproval. Yumi knew her Onee-sama well enough to realize that she was actually happy with Yumi's choice. After all, it was Sachiko who had gently nudged her in Sei's direction the week before. However, she also knew that Sachiko had no intention of dropping the role of "protective older sister," even if it was simply a game at this point.

Yumi smiled and leaned her head down until it rested on Sachiko's shoulder. When she looked up, at first Sachiko's face appeared surprised, but in a matter of seconds she returned her affectionate smile.

If Sei-sama likes to push me to grow, likes to guide me to dangerous places, Yumi thought, then Onee-sama is the warm cocoon that I can rest in.

Suddenly Yumi heard a pelting sound against the glass beside her. She opened her eyes, only then realizing that she had closed them. When she turned, she caught sight of a pair of droplets hitting the window, then three or four more, and then suddenly hundreds. They hit hard, like falling pebbles, or like an array of tiny fingers that were knocking on her window and trying to get her attention.

She stared out into the night, at the few figures that she could make out on the side of the road, sparse groupings of people with mushroom-shaped umbrellas sprouting overhead. She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting in a daze.

"It seems there is no other way," Yumi heard Sachiko whispering beside her. "Unless one calls days or weeks ahead of time, they are always quite full—with certain exceptions. I will have to call right now and make a reservation tonight for Ogasawara."

Yumi's eyes widened, but she faced away from Sachiko, so she did not feel the need to censor her expression. The Ogasawara name was powerful, powerful enough to bypass any petty rules, powerful enough to instantly clear a table at a very full hotel restaurant, but her Onee-sama was never one to flex this power too frequently. She wondered what this whole ordeal was about.

"Well, I'm honored to be adopted into the Ogasawara family for the night," Sei whispered back. Her tone was as it always was—casual and lightly amused—but Yumi knew that this was Sei's strange way of saying thank you.

As the car slicked through the hazy streets, Yumi looked at the two women who sat beside her, whose lithe bodies rumbled passively with the tiny bumps along the road. She was pleased to find that they were smiling at each other.

The cuff of Alice's dress shirt stuck out a little—just a little—from the sleeves of her suit jacket. It was the recommended style for Western clothes of this kind. As she stared down at her left wrist, she couldn't help but think that the small strip of white fabric that sprouted out of her jacket was there to allow a peek at the expensive shirt underneath, which was otherwise completely obscured by her vest and tie.

Her mother had brought her to a tailor to have it all fitted perfectly. Even still, she couldn't shake the weird sensation that it didn't fit at all. The shirt felt too small somehow, like she could feel every centimeter of the seams pressing uncomfortably against the fledgling muscles of her chest and back. The jacket felt too big, like she was a little kid swimming in a sea of fabric that hung too loosely from her dainty frame.

And yet when she had looked in the mirror earlier, everything seemed to fit just fine—perfectly even. The young man in the mirror appeared sharp and attractive. For some reason, this dissonance made her more uncomfortable than the insistent itch of the wool collar of her jacket against the back of her neck.

Alice had discovered something else in the mirror that evening, too: a single, coarse black hair jutting out from the side of her upper lip. She had stared blankly at it for a few minutes, in some kind of surreal daze—then she had pressed it hard between her fingers and ripped it out. A few sprigs of peach fuzz came out with it as well, and she had cursed aloud to herself, wondering if those hairs would grow back thicker. A dot of blood had trickled out. She wondered how much more blood it would cost her if more of those hairs happened to appear.

For now she was sitting on her mother's couch, gazing at the floor and jiggling her legs nervously, trying to forget the ill-fitting costume that was making her sweat. Every time she managed to release some worry and let her mind go idle, though, her thoughts inevitably floated off in a more painful direction.

She could not stop thinking about Satou Sei. Even though they had only known each other for a short time, it seemed like everything in the house now reminded her of this charming stranger. When Alice sat at the low table in her room during the afternoon, she had unconsciously pictured Satou-san leaning across from her, flashing that irresistible smirk. When she would look out the window and at the front gate during the evenings, sometimes her mind would manufacture Satou's silhouette near the edge of the dim sidewalk. In the dead of night, as she lay alone in her bed, she had thought of Sei's tall, lean body pressed against her, and she had done things to herself that she was ashamed of in the morning.

None of these thoughts—neither the innocent ones, nor the more overtly carnal—had done anything to slake her desire. She wanted to see Satou-san again. The longer she spent without seeing her, the more she had started to wonder if the woman had been a mirage, if every moment they had spent together had just been part of some kind of elaborate escapist fantasy. She wanted to touch her again, to press her face against the muscles of Satou-san's chest and close her eyes to the world, even if just to prove to herself that it had all been real.

But there was a thick, looming, iron wall that blocked the path towards Satou-san, and she had no business pushing through it. Alice belonged in that house, as a piece of furniture, as a part of the décor—and she knew better than to become enamored with some tantalizing image that lived beyond it. Nothing beyond these walls was real; or, perhaps, it was best if she told herself that.

"Kintarou."

It was the sound her mother would make when trying to address her. For the first time, she felt the strange urge to correct her.

She didn't, though. Instead, she looked up, trying to keep her face as neutral as she could, trying not to broadcast any of her thoughts too openly.

"Yes, Mother," she managed to say. She did not, however, manage to answer in the tone of a question. This was mostly because she always seemed to know what her mother would say before she had even said it; it was like she had a tiny version of the woman in her brain always reminding her to sit up straight, to uncross her legs, to stiffen that limp wrist.

"Kintarou? What are you doing just sitting there? Are you ready?" she called out, standing near the edge of the foyer, slipping out of her indoor shoes. "If you don't hurry, we're going to run late—and what kind of impression would that make?"

"We have plenty of time. Isn't the omiai not for another half hour?"

Her mother gave her an irritated glance. "What kind of attitude is that? We're going to be courteous to Sasaki-san. In spite of her poor health lately, she's making an effort to see you on schedule. If we were to arrive even a minute late, how would that make us look?"

Alice stood up, the well-fitting, ill-fitting suit adjusting with her movements, constricting her in new places and loosening in others. In particular, she felt the crotch of her trousers press a bit too tightly on the flesh underneath, reminding her of what was there, making her wince with embarrassment. Not long ago, that part of the suit had actually fit—until her mind had wandered over to Satou Sei.

The rain had subsided into a mild drizzle by the time they had reached the hotel. Yumi looked out the window at the looming building and her eyes immediately directed themselves to the top floor. It was the most striking part, the walls built from wide panels of glass and concrete and steel, the bright glow of the inside lights shining brilliantly into the night and bathing the parking lot. Hanging vines on metal trellises adorned the outside.

Sachiko seemed to notice the direction of her stare. "That's the restaurant up there, on the top floor," she murmured into her ear. "There's a balcony near the back that is very nice, but otherwise the atmosphere is stuffy. The people who go there are quite insufferable."

Yumi turned to look at Sachiko with surprise. As contrary as she could be sometimes, Sachiko rarely bad-mouthed a place so openly. She smiled at Yumi's expression and reached over to play with the collar of her shirt, a gesture that had survived long after the sailor uniform had disappeared from her life.

Yumi looked past Sachiko when she felt a sudden breeze and realized that Sei was opening the car door. Sei gave her a tiny smile, but otherwise seemed preoccupied as she began to step out.

"You can go to see her off if you wish," Sachiko said, as if she were reading Yumi's mind, "though I don't recommend entering the restaurant with her or getting involved at all. I know that you must be confused, but the omiai is between Alice-san and a young woman from Lillian. Things are already a bit...complicated, and you know how Sei-sama can be so unpredictable."

Yumi's eyes widened briefly, but as she thought about it, it actually made total sense. More than anyone else, Sei had a talent for cornering people at just the right time and allowing no room for escape. Why would Sei approach Alice during some other, more appropriate moment? That would be too polite and courteous, wouldn't it?

She was briefly reminded of why she found Sei simultaneously attractive and frustrating. The two extremes were one indivisible whole. She's either way too distant or she's right up in your face, Yumi thought. Sometimes both at the same time.

Yumi reached for the handle of the car door and Sachiko nodded towards her with encouragement. "I will wait for you here. Don't linger for too long," she said. As Yumi began to slip through the crack in the door, Sachiko grabbed her by the wrist, then added, "And don't do anything that pleases Sei-sama."

They exchanged an amused look, and Yumi finally stepped out onto the curb. The rain was only a light mist now that left her exposed face and forearms a little colder than the rest of her. But the ground was still slick with the previous downpour.

Sei had come around from the other side of the car and seemed to know what she was doing without even asking. She took Yumi's hand and led her down the carpeted outside entrance, and then through the doors that were held open for them by a young man wearing white gloves.

As she always did whenever she took even the slightest step into her Onee-sama's world, she felt like an impostor—but no one seemed to stare at them or notice them much as they made their way through the lobby of the hotel. Maybe it was the fact that Sei walked with such confidence—as she always did, like she personally owned the place, like she belonged just the same anywhere on Earth as she did in her own house—that everyone seemed to silently welcome them without question.

Sei led her to the elevator, and Yumi breathed a sigh of relief when the doors rolled shut, like a pair of curtains closing off the outside world for just a moment and giving them a moment of privacy. As Sei mashed the button for the top floor, Yumi turned to look at her.

"So you're crashing Alice's party, huh?" Yumi asked. It was harder to smile than she had anticipated.

Sei was quiet for a moment, only staring at the lights near the top edge of the door as they dinged to indicate each passing level. When they had ascended halfway up, she finally turned, and Yumi was surprised to find that Sei had a slightly nervous look.

In spite of that, the undertone of a smirk still managed to spread on her face. "Actually," Sei admitted, "I don't know what I'm about to do. I have no idea, no plan. I'm just acting on raw instinct right now. I feel kind of stupid, to be honest."

Yumi stepped forward and pressed her face against Sei's chest. It was a hurried gesture, and she did it with such little warning that Sei had to lean back a bit to avoid stumbling. Within a matter of seconds, she felt a pair of warm arms surrounding her.

"I'll be okay, Yumi-chan," she said. "I'm an expert at doing stupid things."

When Yumi looked up at her, Sei stooped down, and Yumi allowed the kiss that followed. The tastes and smells of Satou Sei still had the same effect; her heart pounded in her chest more frantically than it had when they had snuck through the lobby.

They broke away just before the final ding of the final floor. Yumi looked at Sei, conveying her worry one last time.

The doors opened and a gush of air followed. Sei stepped out, turned to Yumi, and ducked her head down slightly in a little bow of gratitude. Then the doors slid closed once again, and the image of Satou Sei was replaced with a pair of shining metal panels that showed Yumi her own reflection.