So... Here we go again, the longest chapter yet. Thanks everyone for your reviews, I thought writing a small piece from another perspective would be interesting.
Thanks for all of you who have been encouraging me with this fic. I love you all.
7. Twice Found, Twice Lost
Youko had been dreaming. And as it so often happened, she had been able to recall the dream exactly after she had woken up, but now, a couple of minutes later, there was only a blank space in that part of her memory the dream had occupied just moments ago.
In the winter, she had gotten used to awakening in the middle of the night and being too afraid of the disturbing visions to sleep again. When that had happened, she had just turned on the TV and stared emptily at the screen until it was late enough for her to start her daily routines.
In one of those recurring nightmares, she was running in a corridor with intricate decorations on the walls, but it never seemed to lead anywhere as the wall patterns kept changing according to a strict cycle which always started from the beginning when Youko ran for long enough. In the dream, she knew there was something waiting for her at the end of the road, and it was exactly her inability to reach her goal which upset her the most.
But now, sunlight was filtering through the thin curtains. When Youko rose up to look outside, she was greeted by the dawn. Unlike in autumn, the rising sun was full of promise.
Spring. Another generation of Roses would blossom and wilt, and the mantle would be passed to another generation of boutons. So the Yamayurikai would continue to bloom, gently watching over the maidens of Lillian like Maria-sama herself.
For Youko, spring stood for bittersweet goodbyes. Once, she had been strong enough to turn a blind eye to the past and face the future with open arms. Now, she wanted to turn back. In front of her was a desert, behind her a gushing river with its only bridge burned into ashes. Yet, if she kept shouting, perhaps someone would hear her and take her back to the opposite shore with a makeshift boat.
Yes, in spring it was impossible not to reminisce. It was as if her head had been suddenly invaded by memories that had not been there just days before. She saw in her mind the Lily Mansion filled with students, she heard their laughter, and she even smelled the slight scent of grass and mud which had been carried by the wind through the open windows.
Perhaps even now, there was some drama unfolding in the Mansion. There may have been discord between soeurs, maybe some banal misunderstanding was weighing down on the current Yamayurikai too, just like in the old days when Youko had still been Rosa Chinensis. When put into perspective, Youko fully realized that what she had been and still was going through was nothing exceptional, but it was exactly those mundane misfortunes combined which sometimes made the world seem like such a dark place.
She also thought about Sei, but no longer did it cause her pain. Instead, her heart was filled with concern for the woman she after all, loved. In Youko's imagination, the blonde woman was always crouching alone over a worn-out desk, clad in ragged clothes and her hair undone. The image had never been rooted in reality, but in Youko's mind it was a powerful picture, one which made her shift uneasily whenever she thought about it.
It may have been only inside her head, but Youko had always thought of herself as the one standing behind Sei, supporting the latter with her vigilant presence. Still, Youko felt Sei needed her, and she could not be at peace. She wanted to call Sei more and more each day, not because of herself but because of Sei. She wanted to talk to her, if only to hear the latter say she was doing fine. Perhaps then, Youko could have felt calmer.
She did want to see the White Rose for selfish reasons too. Youko was mature enough to admit that. She did entertain thoughts of reconciliation. She wanted to live under the same roof with Sei again. What she could also honestly say, however, was that her selfish desires paled in comparison with her acute need to know that Sei was happy.
Because Youko felt that she was the one to blame, if Sei was not.
And that burden of guilt was too heavy, even for Youko.
Every day, before she went to sleep, she toyed with her phone. She planned everything she would say and how to say it and she imagined all the possible retorts Sei would have and how she would respond, and yet she never could muster enough courage to dial the correct numbers. Once, she had come close, but her hands had been shaking so much that she had called Shimako instead.
All the while Youko knew that she would have to do it sooner or later. For good or worse, she had to meet Sei one final time.
If nothing else, she would bid her a proper farewell.
"I am worried about her."
Even though Youko had been very anxious when she had first stepped into the small restaurant, she was surprised at how quickly she had calmed down. She did not know why the woman in front of her had such a soothing effect on her.
"About Onee-sama? Why?" Shimako asked. She was as elegantly dressed as ever, and her small, lithe hands were peacefully folded on the table.
Youko had seen Shimako a few times after their meeting in the aftermath of Christmas, and their brief conversations were the best therapy Youko could hope for. Shimako, with her serene posture, could make all Youko's worries recede, even if only temporarily. Sometimes, Youko felt more connected to the distant and detached Shimako than to anyone or anything else.
"I don't know. Perhaps I am afraid that she is unhappy and I can't do anything about it. Perhaps I am just a meddler."
Shimako looked thoughtful. She was frowning slightly, there was a small, almost imperceptible wrinkle on her forehead, her eyes were slanted, but still exceptionally large, and it all suited her lovely face perfectly.
"Do you have any particular reason to be concerned? Did something happen?"
A brief struggle ensued inside Youko, but seeing Shimako's brilliant features and sincere expression, Youko felt safe, and more so than she had felt in ages.
It was raining. And it was not a gentle drizzle, but more like as if some god was crying, a real, heavy downpour, a retribution for all the sunny and warm days of the past month. The streets were positively flooding, the drainage wells were treated to more water than they could swallow even in their wildest dreams. There were hardly even cars on the road, and those unlucky few who had to walk were hunched against the hostile raindrops.
Inside their apartment, it was warm. No storm was strong enough to pierce the walls surrounding them, walls they had padded with so much love and caring.
No, unless the storm was brewing inside their shelter.
"Do you ever think about the future?" the young woman with finely cropped, shoulder-length black hair asked. The feelings of restlessness had been nesting inside her for a long time, and once again she could not restrain herself, even though somewhere in the remote corner of her mind she realized that she should have stayed silent.
"Please, let's not start this conversation again", the other person in the room, a tall, blonde woman replied. She had almost gotten used to the black-haired one's inquiries, but they still made her feel a little uneasy. However, up until now, it had been enough for her to take her brooding companion in her arms to put a stop to the disturbing words, so she had no reason to be too worried about it, at least not yet.
"But I can't stop myself, and I think it would be easier for me if you shared my concerns."
The black-haired woman was trying to keep her mouth shut, but the words were surfacing uncontrollably. She could not gaze into the blonde's eyes, so instead she studied the various small paintings hanging on the wall. One of them stood for a small cottage in the middle of grassland, the cute dwelling had walls of red tile, but the cracks between the tiles were like black snakes, hissing and squirming until it dazzled Youko's eyes and she had to turn away.
"Does it matter?" the blonde asked softly, smiling. She crept closer to the other woman, she wanted to feel her beloved's skin, and she wanted to make her smile again, because in her eyes, the black-haired woman was most lovely when she smiled. "The only thing I think about is that we will be together, and it's enough future for me."
Those were idealistic, romantic words the blonde was speaking. For the raven-haired one, they were far from reality, empty, vague. She wanted to plan her future, she wanted to know where she would stand in ten years' time, and she wanted to have a clear direction where she would head to.
"But you do realize that we can't be here like this forever, don't you?" she prompts, and there was a trace of annoyance in her voice, even though she still strokes the blonde's hair lovingly.
"That is exactly why I all the more want to stay focused on the present, you dummy", the blonde replied, her voice still lazily cheerful. She is teasing the raven-haired one, running her fingers around the latter's slender neck, scratching her chin and touching her lips in a sensuous fashion.
But to the blonde's unpleasant surprise, the raven-haired one caught her hand and ushered it away.
"That is not very helpful, is it?" the raven-haired reprimanded. "You know what I mean, so please don't pretend to be stupid."
Now it was the blonde's turn to be irritated. She was angry, because never before had her companion rejected her touch. She shot up and glared at her partner with vicious eyes.
"What would you want me to do, then?" she spat, and her voice had a ominous tone to it. "Would you have me start studying law in Tokyo University and start a company with you after we both graduated? Or would you perhaps like to employ me as your secretary and dress me in provocative outfits to cheer you up?"
Her voice regained some of its previous playfulness during the last sentence, but the black-haired one made the mistake of ignoring it, without even a quick smile. The latter was too lost in her musings, and to her own disgust she could already see them breaking apart. She felt utterly helpless in front of such dreadful visions, but years later she would reprimand herself so many times for not even trying to mend the rifts that had appeared between them.
"In fact, maybe I would. If you started studying for the entrance exams, at least you would have a goal and perhaps you would even start to show some concern for the future, which you are completely lacking", the latter said, crossing her arms steadfastly on her chest. Of course, she did not mean any harm, because she was only showing her concern in her own, although maybe not the most efficient way. "Right now I never see you doing anything but daydreaming and distracting me. I don't even know whether you are attending lectures."
"Shut up, because I don't give a damn."
"Maybe you should, because even I am not able to have patience with you forever."
Something broke with a loud snap inside the blonde woman. She could not believe what she was hearing, and neither did she want to believe. It was too much for her to hear such words from someone she had always believed would support her regardless of time and space. She only wanted to be with her beloved, to stay with her and love her no matter what, and what did she get for such dreams?
Involuntarily her thoughts turned to the events over two years ago, and memories of the fragile, exquisite girl drifted in front of her eyes. She saw their first meeting, she saw them locked in a tight embrace in the greenhouse, she saw them desperately kissing in front of the school building, and finally she saw herself standing in the metro tunnel, waiting, waiting, waiting, her shoulders becoming more and more hunched as her hopes became dimmer.
And she remembered the shattering sensation she had experienced when she had been told that the one she had been waiting for would never come.
"You are free to leave if you like", she shouts, her face twisting in torment. "Or would you feel better if I was a man? Would it be easier for you if this, affair, of ours seemed more conventional?"
She had said those cruel words only to hurt, and she knew it. Nevertheless, she felt brief enjoyment when she saw her words hit home as the black-haired woman flinched visibly.
"We both know that the last one was unnecessary", the latter said, and there was pain inside her, too, even though she was the aggressor in the situation. She admitted that she had been thinking about the fact that they were two women living together in an unclearly defined relationship, which nevertheless certainly was far from the ordinary in a society not known for its tolerance. She thought about her future career, and she feared that she would have to keep secret the person she was sleeping with, and the prospect filled her with revulsion.
Ten years later, she would curse herself for ever having had such foolish concerns. But back then, she was still young, and she did not know what was really important for her.
"We both know that everything you have said in the last few minutes were unnecessary, too", the blonde responded, and with her usual insight, she knew what her lover was thinking, she knew it only too well. She wanted to shake the woman she so desperately loved, her only anchor in the turbulent sea, she wanted to make the black-haired woman see some sense, but she was too tired, too disappointed to do so.
"Say what you will, but we are not children anymore. Just remember that", the raven-haired one stated bluntly.
The blonde said nothing. She was weary of all the demands, she was too exhausted to defend herself, she just wanted to sleep and to forget everything. She wondered what had she done to deserve all she had been forced to endure, but more than anything she feared that she would be abandoned once again.
And this time, there would be no-one to lift her up if she fell.
The black-haired woman was watching the blonde, and she could see how the latter was in agony, but she was not able to do anything for her even though she wanted to console her and make her laugh again. She could not make the anxiety surrounding her subside, and neither did she know what exactly it was she was anxious about. All she was certain of was that there was something wrong, but what she did not understand was that what was wrong had nothing to do with the blonde, but with herself.
"You keep repeating that like a mantra", the blonde said. "You should remember that there is no-one forcing us to 'grow up', whatever that might mean. I love you, and I want to be with you no matter what."
Trapped inside her mind, the black-haired woman could not feel any pleasure even when she heard those beautiful words.
It was a heart-breaking scene, the two women in the same room, their minds inexplicably incompatible, both being unable to find comfort in each other even though they both cared for each other beyond imagination. One of them looked into the future so intently that she forgot the present, and the other was so tightly glued into the present that she denied the future.
The rain continued to fall, the raindrops drummed against the window glass fervently, and against the greyness even the White Rose seemed to have lost its colour. Whereas just moments ago they had both been so warm, now both could feel the chill on their skin. They were not yet cold, but even that day would soon arrive.
It was not about which one of them was wrong, but in the years that followed, it was the Red Rose who would feel guilty.
"I think you are too hard on yourself", Shimako sighed.
If she had been shocked to any extent by Youko's story, and Youko knew she had to be, she did a very thorough job to conceal it. The only thing indicating that it had not been just another session of small talk were Shimako eyes, which were glimmering strangely.
"I don't believe I am", Youko denied. "She always stood to lose more than I did."
Shimako shook her head softly, and her compassionate gaze lifted the final vestiges of the curse the retelling of the events had cast upon Youko. With Youko's words, the long ago buried story had come to life with such painful clarity that she had been caught in the middle of the scene like some spectator spirit, trying to change the course of events with all her might, but in vain. When the story neared its inevitable conclusion, only Shimako's presence had kept Youko's voice from breaking.
"Maybe, but that doesn't mean you should blame yourself so mercilessly", Shimako said, but Youko sensed the younger woman was only saying those words out of courtesy. The confusion in Shimako was apparent. "We both know Onee-sama, and I am sure she understands."
"You are right, she does, and that is the most unbearable part", Youko replied, nodding sadly. Knowing Sei, Youko had no difficulties to believe what the ever-optimistic woman had said to her when they had last met. "I don't hold any grudge on you, and neither am I bitter. I might sound cynical, but after everything that has happened I am just neither idealistic nor innocent enough to risk a third end of the world. "
Shimako lowered her eyes and stared at the table intently. Her hands were trembling; her body did not seem to be fully in control as she was making small, uncoordinated moves in her chair. The differences to her earlier posture were almost impossible to notice, but they were there.
Youko almost prayed that Shimako would not cry. She did not want to be responsible for yet another person's tears, although in the end it might not matter, because even the dead could have sensed the grief radiating from the beauty.
"That is so like Onee-sama", Shimako said finally, her voice so clogged and thick that even tears could not have made Youko feel any worse.
"I am sorry."
There was simply nothing else Youko could have said or done.
Shimako shook her head again, and her silken hair waved in the air as she did so.
"There is no reason for you to apologize for me", she whispered. "And as Onee-sama said, she doesn't want your apologies either. I don't want to patronize, but I sincerely think you should not have let her go, at least not for the second time."
…not for the second time.
…not for the second time.
…not for the second time.
A/N: I actually was under quite a lot of pressure when I wrote this. Obviously this is a key chapter and I wanted everything to be perfect. It took me like 10 hours to write this and edit it, and in the end I can admit that I am relatively satisfied.
I don't hold any grudge against you, and neither am I bitter. I might sound cynical, but after everything that has happened I am just neither idealistic or innocent enough to risk another end of the world
