A/N: Hello!

One of my favorite pairings from Marimite is Sei and Youko, so I thought I'd make them suffer a tad bit while they finally learn to like each other.

Thank you for reading :)

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The loud barking from a pack of dogs bounces off the walls of this strip mall, carrying across the parking lot. Even with my headphones on, I can still hear them clear as the first days of spring semester when endless "Gokigenyou," greetings resonated across the one campus I once called mine.

An hour ago, when I first parked my car and walked into the gym, the only noise one could hear was the speeding cars from the adjacent road. Still, this cacophony, as distorted as it seems, brings me inexplicable joy today.

I open the car door only to toss my water bottle and headphones in it; for the first time in Maria-sama knows when, I feel my legs firmly holding the weight of my body, and I let them move on their own accord, crossing the parking lot with resolve I couldn't remember I had.

Lately I have been living off of these small moments, these minuscule sparks of happiness which jolt life back into my heart. School has drained me and as my last year of university approaches, I feel the world pressing down on my shoulders, demanding something from me I am not able to give yet. For far too long I have been afraid of the responsibility that freedom brings me, I have been terrified of not being able to be what everyone expects of me.

It pains me to admit that somewhere along this dull journey I have traveled, the ghost of someone I pretended to be long ago still haunts me, and try as I might, I can't seem to let her go.

But today I put on a smile, one I usually wear when I have to be the "Senator's daughter," and I hop on the sidewalk where the first cage is set up, a black pit bull lying inside of it – sleeping like the commotion around her is simply part of life. I kneel down and greet her with a soft, "Hey there," which is enough to get her up and walking toward me. Her tail wags and I feel my heart move to the rhythm of that sway.

She reaches the front of her kennel; excitement and hesitance all bundled up in this little ball of fur. So I press the palm of my hand against the door. "I'm not here to hurt you," I want to tell her, but I assume that by now she should already know that. And I envy her ability to feel these things which humans can only convey with words. Still, words are deceiving weapons, and I much rather be here, sharing this not so quiet –but wordless– moment with this dog I just met, than to try and understand the ulterior motives which lead humans to say things they do not mean.

She sniffs my hand and I wonder how much she knows about me by just this interaction. Of course I berate myself inwardly for fearing she knows me more than I really want to know myself.

This existential crisis continues in my head and I completely disregard the automatic doors opening behind me. Consequently, I seem to ignore some of the rescue group members waking out of the pet store.

"You shouldn't put your hand inside the cag—"

The sound of that voice alone makes soul leave my body. Only when it returns, I retrieve my hand from the kennel, and I stand. My mind doesn't have to reach deep in the corners of everyone I have ever pretended to be in order to choose this mask; nevertheless, there's no one else in my repertoire with more experience to handle this situation than Rosa Chinensis. Still, I must admit, Rosa Chinensis is the one I hate the most.

And I hate her because she was born out of my decision to damper my own chaos when I first entered Lillian High School Division. I was the one who asked for the instant gratification of numbness just because I couldn't bear to feel –anything. I was so afraid of my own heart, I gave it away to Rosa Chinensis and she grew stronger to the sound of pills rattling in bottles inside my book bag during my first and second years at Lillian.

Nevertheless, even though those bottles are long gone, Rosa Chinensis still haunts me, numbs me, swallows all of the good from my heart.

"Erm..."

I try to help her bewilderment at seeing me with a polite "Gokigenyou, Sei," my posture is perfect, my voice clear and pleasant, my smile just right.

If only she knew I am disgusted with myself...

"Ah! Gokigenyou to you, too, Youko-san," she says awkwardly to the likes of Yumi, all the while the girl who followed Sei out of the pet store is looking up at her with skepticism, then, smirking, she mouths a "Gokigenyou?" mockingly.

But Sei brushes the girl off quickly, asking her to go back inside and grab the rest of the boxes they need. Then she turns to me again, "So, uh, hi, hello," she fumbles with grace only she possesses.

"Hello, again..."

"You know," she points at the dog behind me once she finally recovers from not knowing how to handle this situation, "she could've bitten your fingers off," she tells me.

"Oh…"

"I've seen her eat an entire bowl of dry food in one bite!"

"…"

"Say, Youko," she dives into the awkward silence. And she leaves the honorific behind this time around, pumping nostalgia into my heart. I had forgotten how nice she is when she's all there, when she's not trying to be angry at the world. "You can go ahead and ask," she says.

So, I gasp for air at her mind-reading abilities. But that's how Satou Sei is: all knowing and all understanding –unless the subject is herself.

"You must be wondering why…"

"No," I let Rosa Chinensis lie. "You have always been good with animals. Goronta will vouch for you."

She smiles brightly thinking of the stray cat, "Ah, Goronta!" she says with a chuckle which immediately brings a smile to my face. Sei is a beautiful woman, and though she tries to hide, her heart is capable of being even more wonderful than what is on the outside.

So we play a staring game for a while, and I feel her eyes studying the lines of my face –many of which she hasn't seen before, I'm sure–. I look back at her, fighting the urge to look away as this homesickness invades every inch of my body, cracking Rosa Chinensis resolve in the process. And it's not that I miss her. What I really miss is a time when I was okay with my lying to myself about knowing everything there was to life.

But I'm saved by the pit bull behind us when she whines and Sei gives her attention.

"Ah, you have no water!"

Sei all but begs me not to leave, excusing herself for a second and walking back into the store. Soon enough, the automatic doors open up and she walks out holding a bowl with water.

I watch her unlatch the gate to the kennel before she pats the dog lovingly, and places the water in a corner by the food. Then Sei looks back at me, "She likes me," she says, giddiness dripping from those words.

"Someone has to," the teasing comes out naturally, yet my cheeks flush with the realization we are not the kids we used to be anymore.

Her response is somewhat self-deprecating, "Right as always, I see."

"You have always been—"

"Terrible?"

"You give yourself too much credit for being a bad girl, Rosa Gigantea."

"…But I am bad!" she shoots back, closing the cage and standing up.

And I say nothing back. I figure one more second of silence from me will not make a difference in the grand scheme of awkward encounters.

However, she wants to talk. Somehow, the girl who has always ran away from people, today, wants to talk. "Say, Youko," she starts.

"Hmm?"

"Can I buy you a cup of coffee?

"But—"

"I'll get someone to cover for me," she says a bit frantically, "… I… Uh…I feel like if I let you go, I won't see you again for another year."

I say nothing again because she is right. Only Maria-sama knows how hard it was for me to have waited for Sei when she went back inside earlier. But Sei should be used to my inability to handle spending long periods of time alone with her. She knew very well how hard it was for me not to meddle when everyone was sure she was going to get hurt during the Shiori fiasco. Nevertheless, I always acted as if I understood everything there was to understand about life while she struggled to comprehend the bare minimum. Today I know it was terribly wrong of me to have done that to Sei, and because I know I was wrong, I cannot help but feel like she has never forgiven me. Still, I have to admit that I also have not forgiven her for things she did to me, to Eriiko, to her onee-sama.

I guess that makes us even.

But now we're alone, no buffers to protect neither one of us, and I would be lying if I said I am not scared of what she has to say to me.

Sei steps aside to speak with another member of the rescue group while I squirm inwardly and Rosa Chinensis plays cool in the corner.

"Ready?" Sei asks once she comes back.

I answer her with a quiet nod, then she looks to the right and to the left before she takes my hand, but she says not a word, she just drags me to the parking lot. Her fingers are tightly laced in mine, her skin radiates heat into my body.

"Where are you parked?" she asks.

"Were you not the one who posed the invitation?"

"But I didn't drive today…"

"And you're assuming I did?"

"You've been holding on to your keys this entire time, Youko."

"I—"

She's something else, I tell you…

So I unlock my car and we jump in. She tells me she likes my air freshener, and I thank her with politeness worthy of an Oscar. Then, she tells me that by taking a left, I could cut through the parking lot, but I take the long way, and we get there without breaking any traffic rules, which annoys her to no end.

Thankfully I am more than familiar with this coffee shop. Though I found it online, the owner happens to have gone to high school with my dad, and they tend to carry long conversations every time dad and I stop by for a bite to eat – which has become so often that the entire staff knows me by name.

"Café au lait, right?" she asks while holding the door open for me. And I am not surprised she still remembers my drink of choice in high school. She remembers everything –a terrible curse, in my opinion–. I hesitate nonetheless, but just prepare myself to waste a perfectly good cup of coffee, because though Sei knows Rosa Chinensis, I assume she knows absolutely nothing about Mizuno Youko.

I know nothings about Mizuno Youko.

Still, here we are, and I brace myself to continue this pretending with her. I take a booth when she reaches the counter to order. She smiles at me from across the room and I don't know whether to smile back or hide under the table. I choose the former, but it takes everything in me to feign happiness.

"Shikamaru-kun over there," she approaches me, pointing at the counter where Shikamaru is standing taking orders from an older gentleman, "…said they ran out of almond milk, so he got 'Youko-chan' cashew milk," she finishes with a mischievous smile.

"I come here a bit too often," I explain.

"I kinda just let him choose the pastries for us, is that okay? Shikamaru-kun said his dad is friends with yours?" she asks, grinning this time, the smile reaching her eyes, making them glimmer like I had never seen before – has she always been this easygoing?

I thank her with warmth I only have for Sei, and I feel Rosa Chinensis ease her grip from my limbs as if the affection from Sei cracks her resolve.

Although there are some things I cannot forget nor forgive Sei for, I am not very sure exactly when but sometime after the Christmas of Shiori, the part of my heart designated for Sei expanded without my consent. It's alright, though. Sei deserves the affection from me, from Yumi, from Shimako, Noriko, from all of us, as a matter of fact. Because she gives it too –to some more than others, but I understand that she doesn't care about the complexities of measuring the amount of love one gives on a person-by-person basis–.

"Is it okay? I can get you something else…"

"It's fine, Sei," I take a sip of the coffee just to reassure her I was okay with her – Shikamaru's– choice, the hot thing burns my tongue. I pretend I'm fine.

"Say, Youko…"

"Pardon?" I look up from the cup just to remind myself that her eyes remain the most wonderful gray I have ever come across –that I could not ever deny–.

"How's school going for you?" she asks and I am faced with the conundrum of small talk coming from someone I thought was incapable of doing it.

"It's not easy," I answer, "But I'm still getting good grades."

"Are you liking it?"

"Yes," I lie, holding on to the last legs of Rosa Chinensis.

"Is it all you've expected it to be?"

"Pretty close." I tell the truth this time.

"I envy you," she tells me earnestly, bringing the coffee to her lips before continuing, "Turns out I like contemporary stuff more than traditional literature… and that's all we cover in class. I'm already tired of classics, of renowned literary works. I want books with pictures in them, manga, light novels, graphic novels, comic books!"

She tells me all of that while I sit here, perplexed at those candid desires she chooses to share with me –of all people; me.

"So, I'm assuming you're not going to continue on after you graduate…"

"I am!" she tells me matter-of-factly, "I wanna be able to vote for change in the curriculum at some point." She smiles brightly at me –once a martyr always a martyr–.

"You're—"

"I know… but I mustn't be the only one who thinks this way, right?"

I let the rhetorical question linger between us, and I feel my cheeks flush with shame for not being strong enough to tell her the truth about myself, about my hating law school, about my inability to be happy with the choices I have made in life so far.

But then what good would it do to tell her I still love painting, that I should have told my parents I wanted to go to art school instead of Law? What great relief would it bring me to tell her these truths buried deep in my heart?

I lie instead.

She asks me if I think she's an idiot for thinking the way she does. I shake my head, no, and smile at her. "I think your plan is wonderful," I say honestly.

Then she asks me if I mean what I say, as if my opinion has ever mattered to her. Sei has always been self-sufficient. Unlike me, she is not worried about other people's opinions. But Sei also takes full responsibility for her mistakes, which, in the end, allows her to not care anyway.

That's another thing I envy her for: this ability to put her heart in front of everything else. This undeniable eagerness to seek her own path, to be true to herself at all times, to not give in to what others will think, even if it gets her in trouble, expels her from school, puts her name in everyone's mouths, labels her a heathen; even if it breaks her heart and leaves her bitter, cold, unable to love again.

So I give her a nod of agreement just as Shikamaru places a plate of pastries between us. I watch her reach for the first one, and she takes a substantial bite out of the thing. Then, she bundles the food all to one side of her mouth –like she's forgotten all of the training we had at Lillian– "I can't eat all of this by myself," she says, inviting me to join her.

And I chuckle at her antics, realizing I have missed her more than I thought I did. Then I pick the next pastry in line, and I take a bite as big as she did –when in Rome, I reason, silencing the arguing about what is proper in public that goes on in my head–.

"It's good, huh?" she mumbles with her mouth full, then she smiles at me when I respond with a nod.

She washes down the remaining of the pastry in her mouth with her coffee, then she takes a good look at me, "How's Sachan doing, Youko?"

"She's well. Yumi-chan keeps her on her toes –you know how that goes– and even though they're not going to the same university, they're always together."

"Have they come out yet?"

"Sayako-oba-sama knows."

"And the Fukuzawas?"

"Yuuki-kun for now."

"That's good," Sei says, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips.

"And Shimako?" I continue the formality, though I am genuinely curious.

"I've gotten no complaints from Hokkaido. She's happy as a clown since Noriko moved there last year."

"And they're in the same department, right?"

"Yup."

Then, I can't hide the smirk when I borrow Sei's words, "Have they come out yet?"

"Ha! Everyone knows about those two!" she answers with a grin, "Noriko was pretty adamant about not hiding."

"I'm sure it was easier after Rei and Yoshino…"

"You might be right. But I remain the OG, thank you very much."

"You never really needed a 'coming out' event."

"It's…" she hesitates for a second, but finishes nonetheless, "…much work to hide."

"If you say so..." I say, reaching for the plate of pastries.

"…"

"…"

"Say, Youko…"

"Hmm?" I mumble and she waits for me to look at her again before she asks, "When is it going to be your turn?" throwing me for a loop, and I all but choke on my coffee. "I'm—" I clear my throat, "I—"

"Youko…"

I know I don't need to answer. I also know she means no harm when she asks, but even still, even if it's Sei asking, I'm still not ready to say it out loud to the world, so I apologize instead.

And this is so much more than just saying it. It also goes beyond telling my parents –which, thankfully, I didn't have to because they knew even before I had realized it–. It also goes beyond sexuality, beyond the person whom I choose to love. This is about my inability to drop the Rosa Chinensis act every time I feel scared, anxious, threatened.

"No, I am sorry…" she says, "I should've known better not to pry. You've always been reserved about these things. It was wrong of me to have assumed things had changed."

"Some things just don't..."

"But change might be good, right?" she asks with a bit of hesitance. And for a second I question whether I am speaking with the same Satou Sei I met in high school.

"Sei—" I try, but she interrupts me with a "Nope! I refuse to give you a reason to run away from me today," then she stands up, walks to the condiment counter, picks up two coffee lids and comes back to our table. She then proceeds to cover both of our cups.

With one hand she takes her coffee, the other reaches for the last pastry on the plate. She shoves the pastry in her mouth before grabbing my hand and pulling me up, "C'mon, let me put you to work."

And with that, we drive back to the pet shop.

"Take this," she says to me, tossing a shirt with the rescue group's logo my way, "That way people won't ask why you're back here with us," she finishes. Then she looks at the girl that made fun of us just a little while ago, "Sakura-san, can you help Youko-san with the water hose?"

Without saying anything else she walks away, leaving me alone with Sakura who is clearly still questioning my upbringing by the way I greeted Sei earlier today.

A while later, we hear the back door crack open, "Yo, Sakura-san, they're ready for water, Youko-san, stack t—" she freezes when Sakura and I have all of the waters stacked up and ready to go.

"You first, Youko," Sakura says, and I thank her for letting me walk out first.

"Ah… I should have known not to let you two hang out together…" Sei jokes.

"Not sure how a nice girl like Youko-san has an oaf like you as a friend..."

"Hey, I'm a delicate flower, too!"

"Who said I was a delicate flower?!" I ask, and the two of them laugh at my expense. Incredibly, I am actually okay with the teasing for once. I laugh along instead of berating myself.

So, Sakura and I bring water and food to the kennels outside. And from across the way I watch Sei speak with a couple about one of the rescue dogs for a long while, until she walks to the adoption table, leaning into a box and pulling two leashes out. She opens one of the kennels, secures a tiny lab in one of the leashes and hands it to the lady she was speaking with. Then, she brings out the black pit bull, walking her to where I am and handing her to me with a cheerful, "Here."

"But…"

Sei looks at me, at Sakura, then back at me, "She needs to go poo-poo," she says.

"She needs to go poo-poo, Sei?"

"Would you rather she took at sh—"

"Satou Sei!" I feign outrage, and she laughs heartily, her head thrown back, her shoulders shaking, her ponytail bouncing up and down – this is the first time I hear her laugh like this, the first time I see her openly show these emotions I thought she was incapable of having.

Once she has recovered from her bout of laughter, she guides me away from the commotion. When I look up she is quietly watching me handle the leash, and truth be told, this dog is making me look like a professional.

Our silence is healing, I must admit. Though it bares all of the words we never said to one another, it tells me she is okay with the person she has become, that she is not uncomfortable in her own skin any longer. She doesn't need to fill this space between us with words which will add nothing to the way we both feel.

So we walk along the sidewalk until the dog makes a poo-poo, and Sei picks it up with a baggie she had in her pocket.

She chuckles when she tosses the bag into the trashcan. "She never takes a bad poo. It's always solid poo with this girl," she says, patting the dog's head.

"How long has she been with you guys?"

"A little over three weeks."

"Will she get adopted?" I ask a bit worried.

But Sei's confidence appeases my heart, "Oh, she for sure will!"

She smiles, looks around to make sure no one is watching us, then grabs my hand before she commences a light jog which turns into a full-on sprint after she shouts, "C'mon! Follow me!"

Like a reflex I shout her name at the top of my lungs. It echoes across the parking lot, bouncing right back to fill my heart with hope. Hope one day I can feel the way she does right now.

So we put the dog away after the poo-poo walk, and before I ask for adoption papers – not that my parents would say anything, but I would rather take the easy road when it comes down to having to justify such a hasty decision–.

Come to think of it, I don't think I have ever surprised my parents like that. I've always been thoughtful enough to think twice before I acted. I'm predictable, always playing safe.

###

"Say, Youko…" She gets my attention as I put the last box of bowls into the rescue group's van.

"Hmm?"

"Wanna get lunch with me?"

I look at my watch, "By the time we're done here, it's going to be dinner time," I tell her, and as expected of Satou Sei, her response is none but, "Then, it's a date!"

Somehow she coerces me into shoving her bike in my trunk and taking her home. She takes the passenger seat, "Shot gun!" she calls, then she holds on to her helmet and her backpack as she gives me instructions on how to get to her apartment, which include something along the lines of, "go over that flowerbed," as well as, "take that fire hydrant over there." I respond calmly to her directions by simply saying her name, "Sei," I tell her, "Se~i," her name rolls off my tongue like a well memorized prayer, a song one learns when young and even after years of not thinking about it, one can still recite word-by-word. Her name coats my mouth with nostalgia, it floods my heart with this want, even though I'm not sure what it yearns for.

When we finally park, she locks up her bike, then guides me to the third floor of building number five. "This is me," she says, stopping in front of door 308 and unlocking it.

Her apartment feels like a home; like someone really lives here, wraps themselves in these blankets, spills tiny bits of coffee on the table - enough to create sticky rings on the surface when one forgets what coasters are for.

She lets me look around for a while, pointing at the kitchen and apologizing for only having water and milk to drink. I decline politely the multiple offers she makes of "I can get you a glass of milk…"

Once she's satisfied with my not wanting anything, she turns on a wax warmer placed by the T.V., then heads to her bedroom after asking me if it is alright for her to take a shower. So, I take a seat on her couch while still examining her home, and it doesn't take long until the warmer melts the wax and the subtle smell of eucalyptus and spearmint permeates the air. I breathe in deeply, trying to take in my surroundings. Nevertheless, I don't try to scrutinize it, I take everything at face value, without pretending I know why she chose to frame a crappy poster from a band that doesn't play together any longer, or why she has a photo of the Yamaurikai under a photo of her, Shimako, and Noriko by the recliner in the corner of the living room.

There's a hardcover on the coffee table, too; a pair of dark-rimmed glasses keeping the book company.

I had never thought of Sei in glasses before, but the idea doesn't make me cringe either.

I wonder if she wears them to school.

If she does, I wonder if the classmates who don't know her name think of her as 'the girl in glasses.'

But if they do, they're missing out.

If they do, then they don't know who Satou Sei was, is, wants to be. If they do, then they don't know about Rosa Gigantea's stories of feeding stray cats, of keeping underclassmen secrets, of falling in love with girls who are in love with the Cloister. If they think of her as just 'the girl in glasses', then they don't know how wonderful this woman can be despite all of the darkness which once surrounded her.

After I am done looking around, I waste time on my phone while she showers. Then she comes out of the bathroom, still wrapped in a towel, to check on me, excusing herself once more shortly, then I hear the muffled sound of the hair dryer through her closed door.

When she comes out again, she's dressed and ready to go. She's wearing her hair down this time, she's been letting it grow out, and though it's not as long as it used to be, it reaches her upper back. Her bangs are well kept, trimmed perfectly like Noriko's. Still, I would have loved to see her with the choppy and messy locks she had in high school. She looks good, though, that I cannot deny.

Dark, skinny jeans, and a white, button-down shirt with a granddad collar, she stands in front of me, then she extends her hand my way. I accept the invitation and she pulls me up, "You ready to go, Youko?" she asks, her perfume bringing back memories of endless days at the Rose Mansion. Days when I had finally decided to exchange numbness for those feelings I had feared for years on end, and as excruciating as they were at that time in my life, I am so glad I was able to feel –everything– because by doing so, I was also able to create memories like the ones I have of Sei, of Eriiko, of the people who I love the most.

Somehow, Sei, herself, is longing incarnate.

I tell her I am ready, hesitantly, because unlike Sei, I still live with my parents, and though we've always had a healthy relationship, I feel as if out of all of my friends, I am the one who never really had to grow up. But Sei doesn't need to know that, she doesn't need to know that I feel like a failure, like an unaccomplished brat who lives off of the goodness of mommy and daddy. I'll let her make her own assumptions about me, much like she did when we were still kids. My feeling is that she still sees me as an uptight meddler, who spends her days plotting to save the world but falls short of saving herself.

She wouldn't be too far from the truth.

"You sure?" she asks while she stares at me again.

So, I look away while confirming my lie with a soft, "Yes," and she picks up a pair of black oxfords from the shoe rack by her front door, putting them on without worrying about socks.

No dark-green dresses with sailor collars, no ankle socks and crappy sneakers, Sei has learned to let go, I believe. She has learned to strip herself from things which will add nothing to her life – who needs socks anyway, right?

We walk downstairs quietly at first, then when I unlock the car and she jumps in, she breaks the silence, "Do you know how to get home from here?" she asks.

"I can take the freeway."

"Or you can take the surface roads."

"But that would take longer."

"But we're not in a hurry, right?"

I look at her, trying to conjure up an answer to that cheesy remark. In all fairness I would like to know what she wants from today. I still haven't figured out if she still hates me or just feels bad for always keeping me at arm's length in high school. Or, maybe, she can sense the tribulation in my heart. But that would be wishful thinking wouldn't it? –To think she, out of all people, would be the one to pull me out of the abyss I've fallen into and cannot seem to find a way out–. I guess, in a way, we have always expected these feats of unexpected bravery from Satou Sei.

Either way, I tell her I'm not in a hurry, making a left instead of a right, and I humor her by taking the scenic route.

###

"That church over there," she points back into the city, "the one with the big metal cross," she continues, "It has some incredible glass paintings… the type that little chapel at Lillian had, you know, with the crucifixion scenes and all, but like, ten times bigger."

"I've never been there before."

"I go by pretty often, only walked in a time or two, tho…ugh," she fails to catch herself, then chuckles, moving her gaze from the church, to me, "You know how I am with all of that church stuff, right? I guess…" she confesses before continuing, "I guess there are things in our lives we decide will be our demons for longer than even they probably want to be. So… turns out you were right, after all… Aaaand I'm a hypocrite," she finishes, scratching the back of her head awkwardly.

"Aren't we all, though?" I try to appease her.

"…"

The church disappears on my rearview mirror, only then I finally look at my speedometer and ease off the gas pedal.

Sei's demon is not God, or the church, or organized religion. Her demon has a name, a face, and a heart that was able to have loved Sei but chose not to.

Nevertheless, even though Kubo Shiori turned Sei into a shell of herself for many moons, I still think she was the one who lost the most.

Still, in a way we all lost Sei: the Sei who was lured into the Yamaurikay with the excuse her Onee-sama liked her face, the Sei who taught me not to use last names when addressing Lillian students, the Sei who had a heart big enough and open enough to fall in love and not hesitate to speak up about it.

We all, in our own way, had to mourn that loss. And the ones who stayed behind had to try and help pick up the pieces that were left during that winter and the spring that followed, hoping that a phoenix would rise from the ashes. What we were left with; however, was a shattered, dark, unrecognizable at times, version of the Satou Sei we once knew –but it was still Sei. And that was enough for all of us –.

I grab on to the steering wheel, squeezing it until my knuckles turn white. I shouldn't hate Shiori because in all truthfulness I understand her predicament, her commitment to something she thought was more important than her own happiness. As a matter of fact, I might understand her more than I give myself credit for. Still, I can't help but hate her.

I hate Kubo Shiori.

And I don't hate her because she monopolized Sei's time, or because Sei pretended she loved her, or even because she ran away. I hate her because she made Sei think she had a chance when we all knew she had made a decision she wasn't going to change for anyone.

I fucking hate Kubo Shiori.

"Youko…"

"Hmm?"

"You don't have to be mad."

I look at her and tell her I'm not, but she sees right through me. Placing her hand atop of mine, she says softly, "You should breathe."

So I exhale as I am told to, praying to Mari-sama I don't get in an argument with Sei right in the middle of suburbia, Tokyo. And I feel like we're in high school again when we never saw eye-to-eye, when neither one of us understood the other's intentions.

But I cannot hold my tongue any longer, and I prepare my face for the slap I never received when we were younger and I thought I knew how to handle Satou Sei, "You've always been ever so cavalier when the subject is Kubo Shiori," I take the first jab and clench my jaw as I brace myself for her response.

Yet, it never comes.

Instead, she asks if I am mad at her.

"I'm not mad at anyone."

"But you just said I'm cavalier…"

"Aren't you, though?" I ask as I pull in to my parents' driveway. I put the car in park but leave it running, and I look at her. I want to hear what her excuse is. I want to hear her say she is still in love with Shiori.

"We weren't meant to be, Youko," she says to me after a long silence, and I breathe in and ready myself to shout at her, though nothing really comes out of my mouth when I open it.

She breaks the awkward silence by asking me if she can continue to explain.

"..."

"She didn't do anything wrong, she just… didn't love me enough to have stayed… I can't blame her for that, can I? How do I blame someone for not loving me? Isn't it kind of selfish to expect reciprocity out of love? This is not some quid-pro-quo agreement we're talking about. I loved her without expecting her to love me back and I found out the hard way what happens when people love other things more than they love you."

"…"

"If I seem cavalier about her, then I apologize, that's not my intention. But I'm really thankful I loved her, Youko. And I'm thankful I lost her, too. This is all part of life, part of why we're here for, part of why we have hope that better things will come our way. Love will come around again, you know. And when it does, my only hope is that they'll be brave enough to stay," she finishes with a smile, then she turns off my car, but leaves the key in the ignition.

She jumps out, walking to my side and opening my door, then she turns around, and starts to stroll toward the front door, "I hope Mizuno-sama is hom— ooofff." My arms move on their own accord, wrapping around her waist, my chest crashing against her back with unexpected force. And I hold on tight to her, burying my face in the nape of her neck.

And as if by command, her fingers reach for mine, but I don't say anything, and she doesn't say anything, and we just stand here for an eternity and a half. Her body radiating heat into mine, healing my soul, telling me it's okay to be scared, and sad, and not ready, because we've all been scared, and sad, and not ready once or twice in our lives.

"We should move before someone thinks we're—"

"You're right," I tell her.

She grabs my hand nonetheless, walking me to my front door.

When we walk in, my mom greets us from the kitchen, dad is here, too, "I don't believe this, Sei-chan!" dad comes into the living room wiping his hands in a kitchen towel, mom follows behind, "Come over here, little one!" dad says, bringing Sei in for a hug. It's safe to say they like Sei, a lot, actually, and they are genuinely happy to see her.

I explain what our plans are for the evening so they don't think we're staying for dinner, then I excuse myself praying to Mari-sama they don't get Sei drunk before I come back.

There's no time to waste here, so I jump in the shower quickly, washing my hair first so the conditioner can stay in for however long I take to wash myself.

I reach for my razor, and without thinking too much I shave, everything, as if following the same strange ritual I've created for when I have a date.

But I don't have a date.

This is just us, catching up and making sure we're still okay with the awkwardness between us.

I rinse off and jump out of the shower, then wrap myself in a towel and walk into my bedroom.

Of course I don't know what to wear, much like I don't know why I am so worried about what I should wear. It's not like Sei is in my living room dressed in a kimono. Plus, this is just Sei.

It's just Sei.

So I hear a loud, "Ha!" from the kitchen and I hurriedly take the blow-dryer and start working on my hair, still looking inside my closet –Goddammit if they are giving her liquor.

When my hair is finally dry, I pull one of my favorite summer dresses from the hanger; red with tiny white polka dots, its simple round neckline is modest, but it balances out the short sleeves quite nicely in my opinion. And, thankfully it still fits me. So I put it on, and proceed with my make-up, and everything else that needs to be done before I can check on the status of the drunkenness in the kitchen.

I take a last look in the mirror before I walk out of my bedroom – everything looks okay. I still have two eyes, a nose, and a mouth; my breasts are not out and my rear is covered.

Still, I breathe in deeply before I walk into the kitchen.

"Yoyo,"

"Where's—"

"Mom is showing Sei-chan the garden."

I thank dad and walk outside to find mom and Sei crouching down by a bed of red roses –stupid perennials–. So I clear my throat to get their attention and Sei shoots up on her feet right away, the white wine sloshes around her glass and she chuckles staring at it until the waves subside, only then she looks at me, and her smile disappears for a second, "Damn," she says, "You ar— damn." she fumbles with her words and I wonder how many of those glasses she has had while I was in the shower.

I dismiss the drunken compliment with a hasty "Thanks," then look at her half-empty glass. With Rosa Chinensis' resolve I walk up to her, and she gives me a cheeky smile which I wipe from her face when I take the wine from her and chug it dry.

I wish I could say I had no idea, but I know exactly why I feel crazy.

"Youk—" Sei tries.

Then against my will, the crazy speaks, "It would be nice for you to be at least half sober around me."

Mom tries to save Sei but I interrupt her by saying we have to go. So I say my goodbyes and allow Sei to give 'Mizuno-sama' a hug and promise she'd come back soon. Then we walk in, and she hugs dad, too, thanking him for the wine before I drag her across the kitchen and through the living room.

The truth is that if she's someone other than the Sei I drove here, then I might as well leave her here with my parents. I don't want her ghost; a half-alive version of whom she is. I've had that once before. As a matter of fact, that was all I've ever had. And the truth is: after spending the day with her, after seeing her in one piece, I am terrified of having anything other than the Satou Sei I met this morning, because I wouldn't know how to pick up her pieces when mine are sprawled across the floors.

So, I unlock the car and she jumps in, "Did I do something wrong?"

"When you asked me if I wanted to have dinner with you, you never said you'd be drunk."

"But I'm not drunk, Youko."

"You spent a whole hour with my parents…"

"That I did…"

"And you want me to believe they didn't refill your glass at least a couple times?"

"They sure wanted to…"

"See…"

"But I babysat that one glass."

"You—"

"Had like three sips of that sauvignon," she finishes, emphasizing the proper pronunciation of the wine –how many languages does this woman speak again?

"…"

"Now, can you please turn your car on? I'm melting in here."

I tell her I don't believe her while twisting the key in the ignition and driving away with no destination in mind.

"…"

"…"

"This is not high school anymore, you know."

"I sure hope you are right."

Then she finally asks, "You're still mad at me, huh?" and my chest freezes at the thought of Christmas night, five years ago.

"Out of all of us, your Onee-sama is the one who has all of the right to still be mad. I sure didn't appreciate the goose chase through Tokyo in the middle of a winter storm, but I also had a hunch there was going to be a freak-out at some point."

"Really?" she asks and I take a good look at her, "Cookies and milk don't mend a broken heart," I tell her.

"Neither do copious amount of booze… and other things."

"You would have begged to differ a few years ago."

"And you would've been correct, Rosa Chinensis."

"I'm always correct, Rosa Gigantea."

Then there's silence; long, awkward, silence that cut through my bones, until she takes the aux cable and plugs her phone in. The radio plays the acoustic version of a song we used to listen to in high school, and she starts with her impossible directions once more, "Twenty points if you hit that couple over there," she says at one point, until she tells me to park at a public garage by a market, then she looks at me, "Say, Youko."

Here we go again.

"Hmm?"

"We never really talked about that night. I was a little surprised there was no yelling from you."

So, I look at her. I look straight into her eyes. I look at her brows and her nose, and her cheekbones and her mouth, then back up at two pools of gray, "There was no yelling because I thought you were dead," I say flatly, wondering if we are finally going to hash out that incident after so many years.

"…"

"I don't usually yell at dead people."

"You—ko..."

"…"

"…"

I let her have it. For the first time in Maria-sama knows when, I don't hold back by evading this subject, "You told us you were going home, Sei! You lied to us, to your parents! You decided that chasing pills with liquor was a good idea before playing the most cowardly game with your friends. You almost got Eriiko killed because in your head only one of us could find you. You crossed the line in so many ways, all I wanted was to scream at you. All I wanted was to blow your eardrums up… But when I found you… there were no sounds I could have made that could ease that sorrow you brought me."

"So that's how you really feel…"

"That's h—"

"You should've told me, you know," she tells me with calm only she could've mustered at this moment.

"You were a mess, Sei, do you think you'd listen?"

At that she apologizes, and I sit in silence, my hands bundled into fists pushing against my thighs.

Though most of that night is carved in my memory –the places I ran across after reading text message after text message, the phone calls to Rosa Gigantea, to Eriiko, to Sachiko, and Rei, everything so vivid I can still feel the freezing cold gusts of winds every time I close my eyes and think of it– her frame on the floor of that old arcade is the last thing I remember seeing before I, too, blacked out. Somehow I was able to call Rosa Gigantea, but I don't remember speaking with her. I also don't remember how I wound up in the hospital before everybody else. Nevertheless, I was there, I watched Sachiko run through the doors followed by Rei. And I remember Rosa Gigantea's pale face as she essentially dragged Eriiko into the ER.

By not thinking of the consequences, Sei put all of our lives at risk that night, and though most of us were able to walk out somewhat unscathed, the way I felt is something I can never forget.

She jumps out of the car but I stay a while. The irony of it all is that the reason why we were never able to be close friends was because we were never able to speak openly like this –one of us was always waiting for the other to say things neither one of us had the courage to do so.

I try to pull myself back together before stepping out of the car.

She's leaning against the trunk when I walk by on my way to exit the parking garage, but before I can clear the first parking spot, I feel her hand on my wrist.

She reels me in; tumbling on my feet, I only stop when my chest is against hers, her back smashes on my car with a loud thud, "I'm sorry, Youko" she apologizes even though I am the one whose entire weight is resting on her.

"Did I hurt you?" I ask.

"I should have considered your feelings…" Sei says and it takes me a second to make the connection that she isn't really referring to the collision that has just happened when she apologizes. She wraps her arms around me tightly before she continues, "…considered the fact that Onee-sama might not have been the first one there."

At that last sentence, I throw my arms around her, but I refrain from saying anything, I renounce this right I think I have to keep berating her, because I know it's taking everything in her to say these words to me. It's taking everything in her to lay her cheek on my shoulder and tell me that she didn't think Rosa Gigantea would have kept on calling both Eriiko and me, that the text messages she had sent us were different than the ones she sent her Onee-sama.

Nevertheless, instead of comfort, her words bring even more turmoil into my heart.

Because I'm never the one she is thinking of.

It's selfish, I know, but the fact that I wanted to be that friend for her; I wanted to be the one she thought could rescue her, hurts me more now than it has ever before.

A minute ago I had the false hope that at least that one night, when she couldn't save herself, somewhere buried in her heart she hoped I showed up, she thought of me.

But I was wrong.

God, I was wrong!

And she allows me no room to soak in all of this, as she pulls away from me, holding on to my shoulders, and smiling while she apologizes yet again. And I say nothing back to her as if I have forgotten how to speak.

She looks around, then takes my hand and walks me out of the parking garage. And as I feel the warmth of her fingers in mine, I try to find something, anything that will bring me solace right in this moment.

Isn't it kind of selfish to expect reciprocity out of love? Her voice seeps through every corner of my mind, like gold being poured between cracks of bowls, transforming mundane into invaluable.

But I don't love her.

This is not love.

So I swallow this urge to scream, and with clarity I have not had in months I take a good look at her; one hand in her back pocket, the other in mine.

I never noticed the red-ish tint the sun brings to her hair, and I never noticed that her back is straight and her shoulders pushed back when she walks. I never noticed the calluses on her hands, and the way she walks with a purpose even when she has no deadline to meet.

This is not the Sei I first met, nor the one the Yamayurikai lost. This is also not the Sei I said goodbye to when we graduated Lillian, but this Sei is all of them combined, weakness and strength together, dark and light in harmony for once.

Right now, I see her clearly. And I think I do so because for the first time, maybe ever, I am not scared she'll break, I am not scared she'll retreat, and so I should not be scared that she will turn into someone else because she is afraid of getting hurt.

She looks back at me when I slow down to watch her, "Am I going too fast?" she asks. So I speed up and fall into step with her, "Don't slow down," I want to tell her, "You are most lovely when you are just yourself."

She smiles at me; nonetheless. Maybe she can hear my heart.

"We're almost there," she tightens the grip on my hand, and I don't question her, and I don't worry about where she's taking us. I let her lead the way –there's a first time for everything.

###

We cross the street and walk up four blocks before she tells me we've arrived, then she opens the door for me.

"Just you and the pretty lady today, Sei-chan?" an older lady greets us, and I look at Sei who at least has the decency to blush.

"Just me and the pretty lady, yes, Hitomi-sama."

"And, no screaming about Western authors this time?" she waits until Sei tells her "No," to actually walk us to a table and place the menus in front of us.

"Unless Youko has some disagreeing remarks on bull-fighting."

"I have many-a-disagreeing remarks about bull-fighting."

"Well, then, upstairs you both go..." Hitomi-sama says.

"Then tell Takahashi-sama we're up there so he takes his evening poo downstairs." Sei grabs the two menus from the table and asks me to follow her before telling Hitomi-sama she will come down to place the order.

So, I follow Sei up the narrow staircase which leads us into a small room with two loveseats around a coffee table near its entrance, and a large dining table with eight chairs in the back; three doors with "Staff Only" signs and one with a "Restroom" sign surround the room. There's also a half-finished puzzle in the middle of the dining table, and Sei looks at it for a second before handing me a menu. "Everything is really good, the sushi is great," she tells me, then tilts into the table to pick up a loose puzzle piece, placing it where she thinks it belongs.

I hesitate, and though I know better, I tell her she should order for both of us, "As long as we can have some steamed rice," is my only request, then she jokes about getting me a can of red bean soup, laughing heartily afterwards. All I can do is stare at her in awe as I wonder where she was hiding that laugh when we were kids. Though this is only the second time she allows herself to giggle in front of me, I feel as if my heart has longed for this sound for as long as I've known myself.

When she's done chuckling at her own joke she comes to my side of the table "I'm biased because I like everything Takahashi-sama makes, but…" she starts, leaning close to me to point at my menu, "this one is really good," she points at an appetizer, "Oh, and this one, too," she says after turning the page to the daily specials section.

She's flipping the menu back and forth, and my heart flutters in the process.

I wonder why I feel this uneasy out of a sudden.

At one point she stops and looks up, catching me staring at her instead of looking at the menu we've been studying for a while now. But she doesn't call me out like she would have if we were still in high school. She gives me a smile nonetheless, "Are you alright?" she asks.

"I'm fine," I answer quietly, the words sticking to my throat.

"Tired of me already?"

I respond by shaking my head, no. And I mean it. I spent many years around her, and I was never tired of her, or annoyed by her. We shared every second of every day while in high school; every breath I took in the Rose Mansion was near her, so near I know what her hair smells like, I can spot her perfume from across the gingko-lined path. I know what flavor of gum she chews, the type of chocolate she likes, how spicy she takes her curry. I know so many things about her, yet I still find myself surprised with her laughter, and her silly banter, and her ability to be an active part of a group like the animal rescue, and with the kindness in which she takes my hand before she drags me around, and the sensitivity and openness she has approached today with.

She stands up, "I'm gonna go put in the order for us before I starve you to death," she says.

She's walking behind me now and I feel her warmth dissipate into the air, but before she walks away, her hand finds my shoulder, and she slides her fingertips across my back.

She doesn't look back, though.

If I am going to be completely honest with myself –which is something I have been lacking of lately– then, I wanted her to have looked back because I need to know what she meant by that touch.

And I need to know why she's doing this, why she's asking me questions she knows I don't know the answers to; why, out of a sudden, the need to take my hand, to haul me around, to open the door of her home to me, and to tell me her truths. She hated the way I used to see right through her, calling out her wavering, saying exactly what was in her heart; so, why, out of a sudden, this coming clean?

Is this her way of saying she is okay leaving our past behind? That she is over the childish battles, the small victories at exponential costs?

I wonder if this is her way of telling me we can now be friends because I finally understand that we all have to dig through our own wreckage sometimes; to pull, not the best, but the least shattered parts of ourselves from the rubble. And if we are lucky enough, the people around us, the ones who love us the most, will be the glue that will mend us back together.

I feel a knot in my stomach, these butterflies I find hard to withstand.

And I feel crazy again.

What if this is not a display of maturity, understanding, forgiveness, but rather a pity parade led by Rosa Gigantea?

Still, has she not, even for a second, thought that maybe I didn't want any of this? That maybe I didn't want my hand to be taken? I didn't want to know these secrets of hers?

The onset of this panic attack makes my head spin. So I stand up pressing the palms of my hands on the table so I don't fall. Then I blink this dizziness away, the puzzle comes back into focus and I stare at it for Maria-sama knows how long. I see loose pieces scattered in a corner, and I see the border neatly arranged, then I frantically look around, searching for the puzzle's box so I can see what the final product should look like. My heart pounds wildly against my chest because I can't figure out what this image is –once upon a time I was able to foresee things, to anticipate plays, but nothing is the same anymore, and I am afraid I will be stuck in the darkness of this labyrinth forevermore–.

I feel my chest tighten, this room, out of a sudden, shrinks and compresses me. I need out of here, away from these scattered puzzle pieces in this poorly lit room.

And I would love to run away, but not only can't I find the strength in my legs to flee, leaving would be terribly cowardly. And though I don't feel like myself, I still have some dignity left in me. So, I lock myself in the bathroom by the couch instead. Reaching for the faucet I splash water on my face, "What am I still doing here?" I ask myself.

I wonder how unflattering it would be if I really ran away, freezing on my tracks at the top of the stairs before looking at her, "Hey," she'd probably say from the first floor, a bit confused while holding on to our water cups, "You alright?" she'd ask.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

I see her down the stairs.

"Youko?"

And I see flashing lights, I hear loud music playing, a cacophony of electronic sounds banging in my head, "I have to go," I tell her mid-way down the stairs and I push her out of the way once I hit the first floor.

But I'm still inside this restroom.

So I wash my face one more time, letting the water cool me off, and though I start to feel a bit better, there's still this hollowness inside of me.

I take another deep breath, I close my eyes again.

And I continue this daydream by bursting out of the restaurant.

Suddenly the heaviness of realizing I am really alone in this crashes down on me: nobody is here to rescue me, much like nobody would have rescued me back at Lillian had I broken down during my farewell speech.

My brisk walk turns into a run once I can see the parking garage ahead of me.

I sprint across the street, my ears ringing with the noises of clunking cans in soda machines, faint "You lose" chants from old game consoles, and the deafening slamming of pinball buttons.

In this discord I don't even hear the clicking of my car unlocking, but I swear I press the button a hundred times.

So, I finally get in my car, closing the door behind me but failing at leaving the noises out. I hold my breath, counting to ten, to 20, and I pray to Maria-sama, urging her to turn my mind off, to soothe my heart.

And I cry, heaving for a breath I held for far too long. I scream in my hands hoping I can expel this desperation out of my chest with this roar.

"Fuck!" I scream, my heart pounding against my chest.

"Fuuuhhh—"

I'm sure this is exactly how things would have played out had I really ran away – because in the end, it will always be me up against the world–.

But even knowing I will have to face the world alone, I wonder if I am allowed to dream of a better ending for this made up story.

I should have the right to dream…

"—ko!" I barely hear her, but then she bangs on my window, "Youko, wait!"

She's here.

"Can you please open the door?" I hear the muffled request.

So, I finally lift my eyes up. She's standing here, out of breath, her hair disheveled, her shirt soaking wet, but she's here, screaming my name, asking me to stay with a ragged, "Please, don't run away from me…"

She hammers down on my window with clenched fists, then as if she has given up, she drops her arms down. Her hair is covering her face when I finally open my door and step out of my car.

"Don't run away from me…" she repeats without looking at me.

Somehow her words make my heart swell inside my chest.

I breathe out a chuckle while still standing in the bathroom. What am I doing?

Then I look at the water running for a while before confronting my reflection in the mirror -thank Goodness for waterproof mascara–.

Once I am done reapplying my eyeliner, I make sure the faucet is not dripping and walk out to find Sei sitting at the table, working on the puzzle.

"You okay, Youko?"

"Hmhm," I answer.

There are two dishes neatly arranged between us, two glasses of water on cardboard coasters, too.

"Ah! Would you like something else to drink?" she asks before she stands up, shoving her hand in her pocket and walking behind me toward a closed door, which she unlocks with ease and gets swallowed by the room.

I hear her wrestle inside the room for a long second, then she returns holding on to two bottles of juice and two glasses.

And she remains quiet while she twists one of the bottles open. I wonder why she has access to restricted areas of this restaurant, but I decide not to ask.

I stare at her as she pours me a drink without asking if I would like orange juice with my meal, then she fills up her glass and starts eating after a quick, "Itadakimasu."

"…"

"What?" she finally says when she realizes I haven't touched any of the food, "I can't eat all of this on my own, so…" she repeats what she told me at the coffee shop earlier today, but this time I don't reach for my plate.

So, after a while she stops chewing again, placing her chopsticks atop of her bowl of rice, then she reaches for her juice, and she gulps it with gusto before addressing me,

"Say, Youko…"

Her voice makes me cringe this time.

"Are you not gonna tell me you don't eat meat?"

"Wh—"

"You know… nothing with a face…"

"I— How d—"

"Yumi-chan told me."

"Yu—"

"Hmhm..."

"Then…"

"You reared a bunch of meddlers, remember? Although Touko-chin was already a little butthole before she met us…" she trails off.

Quietly, I sit here, feeling betrayed by my own kind, cheated by this dirty old man sitting in front of me because they still talk. How was I so naïve to think they wouldn't anymore?

So I let Rosa Chinesins take over once more, "Is there anything else you know that I don't? I am clearly at a disadvantage here."

"Oh, I never meant to—. I just mentioned the food because I was a little surprised you never said anything. Altho—"

"Do you also think I'm unhappy?" I cut her off.

"With some things, yeah," she answers me without hesitating, and I chuckle incredulously at the irony of this talk.

"…"

Then she lifts the palm of her hands toward me, "Hear me out, though…"

"…"

"Remember when you told me you felt like you should have meddled even more in my and Shiori's relationship?"

"I do…" the simple answer burns my throat.

"Ok. Good…" she starts, but pauses for a while before continuing, "For a long time I couldn't understand why you felt that way. I mean, yeah, you might have been able to keep her around for a bit longer, but what good would have that done in the end anyway? And how would have that benefited you at all?"

She stops and looks at the puzzle on the table, then back at me, then fills up her empty glass with more juice, "Only when I was already in college the answer finally dawned on me," she chuckles to herself and I wonder if Noriko and Shimako had anything to do with her coming to understand these things I find hard to comprehend anymore.

All the while my heart skips a beat at the realization that I might not have been the only one able to see right through her heart.

But if I did what I did, if I tried to help, was because I couldn't bear to watch her whither away without Shiori's light. If I did what I did, was because I, too, was scared of the repercussions of a public break-up. I tried to keep them together because I didn't know what else to do to keep that hurricane contained.

I tried to help out of fear. Whatever I did was done cowardly, but that I can never tell her.

"…"

I am terrified that she is going to finally tell me what is hidden in my heart –which would make things much easier for me as I have chosen not to listen to it any longer– but she is a better person than I am, "You meddle in all of our lives, you think it's alright to say whatever is on your mind whenever is convenient for you, but when it comes down to yourself, you set fire to the bridge that can bring us to you."

This Sei is something else, I tell you.

"Whatever burden you have, Youko. Whatever it is… you don't have to carry it all by yourself."

"…"

"I've always hated your strength anyway."

Her words make my heart flutter.

And if it that is not enough, she reaches across the table, her fingers landing atop of mine, the contact making me jolt on my seat.

But she proceeds nonetheless.

She takes my hand in hers, her thumb runs across my knuckles, and she holds on to me, tighter than anyone has ever held on to me before.

This is not pity. This is not remorse. This is not whatever Rosa Chinensis would wrongly assume this to be.

In my heart I know this is acceptance, and it's more than I will ever deserve from her, though it's only fitting that she is the one to offer so openly.

And now, all I know is that the bit of order which I had been holding on to in my heart is completely gone, replaced with pandemonium, a maelstrom misplacing everything inside of me, and ironically enough, I am more than okay with this chaos.

###

I meet Takahashi-sama while my mind is still spinning with Sei's words. He places a bowl of soup and a plate of rice with stir-fried vegetables and tofu in front of me, "Nothing with a face, right, Youko-chan?" he tells me smiling, then hits Sei in the back of the head on his way back downstairs, "Don't drink all my beer, Sei."

His face looks terribly familiar, and though I wrack my brain trying to figure out where I have seen him before, I cannot, to save my life, pinpoint where I know him from.

"Bah! Takahashi-kun!" she says in a childish voice, "It's not even—. Keep hitting me like that and I'll leave without filling up the soda machine with ice!"

Then she looks back at me, her cheeks flushing at the realization I've been watching this comical interaction between her and old Takahashi-sama.

"Erm…"

"…"

"Try the food, Youko. Takahashi makes anything taste good."

So I do as she says, and once again she is right, Takahashi-sama's food is nothing short of incredible.

I thank her a bit hesitantly for asking Takahashi to make something off the menu, but she dismisses me with a nod, going back to her plate.

We eat in silence for a long while. Every time I drink half of my juice she tops me off. Once in a while she stares at the puzzle to her left, then she picks up a loose piece, examining it then placing it along with the assembled ones.

Then as I ready myself to ask her about the puzzle box, my cell phone buzzes in my purse and hers dings on the table. She looks up at me, lifting an eyebrow, then reaches for it, "What the—" is her response to the text message.

"Did you know about this?" she flips her phone around and hands it to me.

"I had no idea."

"What kind of meddler are you anyway?"

"One with major issues, if you haven't realized yet."

"So, they told Touro-sama…" she trails off.

"And he is not mad…"

"Fukuzawas are probably delighted that Yumi is finally out-out."

"I thought Yuuki was the only one who knew..."

"Have you met Miki-san?" she asks with a chuckle.

"Yes, but…"

"She knew about me the moment I introduced myself to her."

"Don't exaggerate."

"I'm not! Miki-san just knows those things… Never once asked me about Yumi, though. But could see right through all of the Yamayurikai gays."

"Come to think of it, she was always very observant."

"I lost count of how many times we'd all be meeting at the Fukuzawas… I'd go in the kitchen just to hang out with Miki-san and Fukuzawa-sama. They'd be drinking beer and I'd help them shove fried tofu in the middle of rice for onigiri, and we'd joke about Rei and Yoshino, and they'd poke fun of my inability to understand the most simple of concepts," she giggles with delight at those memories, then gets back on track, "So… this means…" she points at her phone in my hands, "…in about a month we will be sipping on expensive champagne and pretending we're respectable young maidens again… Do you remember where you left your mask? I'm pretty sure I've lost mine…"

I look at her, wondering how to respond, "Mine is still right here," I could tell her, and raise a waterfall of questions I don't feel like answering right now. So instead, I scoff at her remark much like Rosa Chinensis would have done years ago.

"But seriously, though, did they have to have this engagement party at such a fancy place? Couldn't they just do it at the Ogasawara's?"

"Are you really still surprised, Sei?"

"I'd be happier at the Fukuzawa's."

"With Miki-sama making rice balls in the kitchen?"

"…"

"I think it's better that way: the nicest place to house a handful of Lillian maidens inconspicuously stripped down from their masks."

"You do have a point, there."

"Don't I always?"

It's her turn to scoff at my question.

"…"

"So," she says, reaching for the second bottle of juice she had opened a second ago, and filling up my glass, "I'll wear those shoes and you'll wear that dress?" she asks me in English.

"Wh—"

"Sachiko will want you to wear a dress, right?"

"Most likely, yes."

" I think I'll play safe with a kimono."

"You've always worn them better than me…"

She thanks me politely, and I can swear I see a slight flush on her cheeks, but it might just be the warm food. Then she looks at me, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, "So, it's a date, then!"

###

"Say, Youko…"

We're outside; she stretches her back, her hands behind her head.

"Hmm?

"Walk up the road with me?"

"Up the r—"

She cuts me off saying she would like to show me something, "It'll only take a minute," she adds, and though I don't believe her, I have nowhere else to go, so I agree with a nod and follow her.

There's a park hidden behind an old cobblestone road and if one were to stand on a bench, they could see the city through the thick foliage of the Red Maples lining the perimeter. Sei walks in front of me like she owns the place.

She takes a look at her watch, "Good. Come with me," she says, entering a convenience store, headed to the slush machine, "We'll need a big one of these," she pours the thick icy drink into a cup I hope she plans on sharing, then grabs two bottles of water, and two green teas.

"Gotta have some of these, too" she says, picking up a bag of candy, and looking at me, "These are good for you, too, right?"

So I give her my seal of approval with a soft ,"Hmhm," and she reads the labels of a few other bags, leaving some behind, but taking enough to give a sumo wrestler diabetes.

Then she heads to the cash register to pay for the items we chose, walking out of the store with a satisfied grin.

We cross the street side-by-side; her arm presses against mine once, twice, and I catch myself slightly leaning into her just to draw out that contact by a half-second. And she says nothing, pointing at old houses and telling me the year they were built, "… and the oldest one is that one over there with the green-ish door. See it?"

I nod and she smiles, then she wraps her arm around my shoulder and brings me closer to her, "I'm glad I was able to see you today, Youko."

"Me too," my half-hearted answer belies all of these feeling I have, begging me to let them flourish, begging me to let them explode, to color my chest in a rainbow of roses.

And colors she makes me feel as we return to the park and the Red Maples swallow us into brief darkness before the sun shines on us again softly as it readies itself to set.

Then a ranch-style house appears before us. She excuses herself as she pulls away from me to fish out her keys from her pocket, then she unlocks the gate and walks in. I follow behind warily even though I know Sei wouldn't have keys to a stranger's home.

There's a pool out in the back; a deck with a round table faces the water, though she ignores it and walks pass the chaise lounges around the pool, heading toward a garden sofa that surrounds a metal fire-pit. Only then she throws herself atop of the couch, the cushions complain a bit but hold her weight with ease.

I take a seat by her, slowly; both my hands sweep the skirt of my dress forward before I make contact with the sofa.

"On our first year of high school, my dad got a promotion from work, remember?" she asks me out of the blue as she hands me the bottle of water we just purchased, I reply with a nod and let her expand, not really knowing where she is about to go with this conversation, "He started traveling a lot, and I rarely saw him."

"It was just your mom and you for a long time, I remember…"

"That all happened because of Takahashi."

"O-oh…"

"It's not as bad as it sounds…" she tries to alleviate the heaviness of her accusation, "The reason why my dad was promoted was because Takahashi retired. So I always say he is responsible for dad being away, although I know that he is not to blame at all."

"I see…"

"They're really good friends, dad and Takahashi, I mean, so we've known each other for years now."

She takes her shoes off and crosses her legs as if she's about to meditate. Then she tells me that Takahashi and her dad have known each other for more than ten years and when he retired, Takahashi felt terribly bad about little Sei not having her father around. So much so that he'd go visit Sei often, and always bearing gifts.

"When all of that stuff with Shiori happened, he was the only adult who listened to me without judgment… He made me feel normal when everyone else had a distorted image of me. Takahashi was the little spec of sanity in that mess I had made."

At that I finally realize where I had seen Takahashi-sama before: the Christmas we almost lost Sei. I can now remember clearly seeing him run through the automatic doors of the ER, leaning on the counter and frantically speaking to the attendant who immediately took him inside. He was there for Sei. When no other adult even knew what was happening, Takahashi-sama was there.

Today she seems so calm as she speaks of such turbulent times. Once in a while a smile tugs at her lips, and she wears it without an ounce of bitterness.

I cannot make myself stop looking at her. I cannot stop myself from opening my ears to her stories, taking in her voice which has been coated with peacefulness.

In the middle of my own storm, I let her be the steady sound of raindrops among the loudness of thunder.

"So I am forever indebted to him. And because I feel this way, I decided I'd help out with the restaurant."

"Ah!"

"But then he started to pay me, saying that he didn't feel like he did anything extraordinary… that his accepting me goes beyond whom I fall in love with."

"Sei…" her name leaves my lips in a whisper.

She smiles at me.

And I catch myself in a whirlwind of white rose petals.

"Oh, don't be all sentimental, Youko! What I wanted to say is that I hang out at the restaurant a lot, and here, too," she opens her arms wide, making me wonder if she is trying to hold on to all that surround her –and though I would never admit this out loud, at least right now, I hope I am also part of these things she wants close to her–.

So she tells me more stories about Takahashi-sama and Hitomi-sama, and about endless nights she spent in the attic of that old house. And we sip on the blue slushy until she looks at her watch, picks up her shoes and the convenience store bag and invites me to follow her again, stopping by a bin and taking a towel with her, which she drapes atop of her shoulder as she walks to the side of Takahashi's house.

Then she looks up at a ladder built against the house, "C'mon," she says, "I'll go first," she adds, and I assume she is being considerate, given the fact that I am wearing a dress.

I shouldn't be surprised by the garden on this rooftop; yet, I cannot help but be fascinated by the flowers and summer herbs sprouting from these planters.

Sei moves a few chairs away from a back wall and lays a towel on the floor for us. She opens up the bags of candy and props them up against one another, then twists the lid of the green tea before handing it to me.

And I accept her offer, taking a seat by her. Back against the wall, her shoulder presses against mine and I look at her mesmerized by the simplicity of this moment that we get to share together.

If we had just met this morning, she had just introduced herself to me today, I am positively sure this is when I'd fall for her. Avoiding it would be trying to avoid a thunderstorm during monsoon season: it doesn't only catches you off-guard, it soaks your soul, sweeps you away with the current.

But we both have a history of disagreements and screaming matches. She has a history of running away, and I, of saying too much.

The sun is setting, and we remain wordless, staring across the red-stained sky, until she looks at me in the stillness of this evening. And I must humbly admit that the Tokyo lights in the distance are no match for her eyes –not when she is smiling like this, only for me–.

I look up at her, my smile now matching hers, then she cups my face with one hand, dragging her thumb across my cheekbone. And I cannot stop myself from bringing my hand up to hers. I lean into her touch as if she is the only thing anchoring me to this rooftop.

I hope she knows that if she lets go, I will float away.

Only but a slither of the sun still fights to stay abreast, a defeat we all know will happen sooner than later, and as darkness swallows us, her lips land on my forehead, the tenderness of this moment making my world spin out of its axis.

Rosa Chinensis would have pushed Sei away, slapping her on the face and demanding an explanation for these thoughtless actions. Rosa Chinensis would have also denied her racing heart, the butterflies painting her chest in colors she has never seen before, that I have never seen before.

But for the first time, maybe ever, I would rather be anyone but Rosa Chinensis; anything but perfect, or arrogantly righteous. Right now, I much rather be scared, unsure, unpretentiously human. Human like Sei has always fought to be: full of flaws, of hesitance, of bad decisions –but human nonetheless–.

Because I am not Rosa Chinensis, I let my fingers move on their own accord. I am now the one cupping Sei's face, and as she withdraws her lips from my head, my mouth carefully finds hers.

Like New Year's Eve, fireworks explode inside my chest; and God, I want her to see my sky painted in her colors.

I lean in, begging for this moment to last a little longer; my once free hand now firmly anchored to the ground, so I can reach for her a second time even before her lips part completely from mine.

She sighs as my tongue finds a new home in her mouth. And in response, she leans into me; one of her hands secures my back until I am lying flat on the floor; though she holds her chest up and away from mine – but that's how Sei is, conscious of everything even when I fail at it.

But much too soon she reaches out for air, and I remember that I, too, should breathe. Nevertheless, she stares at me for an eternity before lying beside me.

As I wonder how long until we have to speak of this crime we are now accomplices to, she looks up at the sky in front of us, mindlessly bringing her fingers to her lips, "I just kissed Mizuno Youko," she proclaims to the universe ahead of her like it was the most sacred of secrets. I wonder if she has forgotten I am here, too. That I am part of this universe she is confiding in.

She answers my unspoken question by looking at me, silently, as the sun-powered bulbs flicker around us.

Sei is most wonderful when she is just herself.

"Youko…" she starts, finally acknowledging me again, "That kiss… It was…" she trails off, smiling at me instead of finishing her sentence.

I chuckle, not knowing how to respond properly either, "Best I've ever had," I could say, but then only Maria-sama knows how she would take it, and the last thing I want to do is to spoil this night.

"For someone who has always known their strengths, I'm surprised you've never bragged about that tongue."

"Sei!"

"What?!"

"Really?"

"It's a compliment, Youko!" she says matter-of-factly, then places her lips upon my cheek, the contact lasts a while, so I get to close my eyes and indulge in this little slice of heaven she has brought me –I wonder if this is sacrilegious, especially after hearing about her aversion of religion from her own mouth so many times, but tonight she is my heaven–. The solar-powered lights brighten this island we are engulfed in, out in the horizon, Tokyo also shines, though, Sei is the one keeping my darkness away.

"Come to think of it, you've always been good at giving compliments; never very good at receiving them."

I disagree with her, but then go on to tell her I simply have an eye for people's strengths. I go on to explain "How is this person different than I am? Different than the people around me are?" I explain, then expand a bit more, opening up about something nobody has ever asked before. "Some people are gifted, others work hard to achieve what they dream of becoming, but whether one is a Torii Eriko, or an Ogasawara Sachiko, everyone has their super-powers. I just like to point them out once in a while."

"…"

"What?"

"I forgot how your freckles come out in the summertime."

"Sei…" I breathe out while my face burns at that comment.

"They're wonderful," she confesses, taking the final hit to this dam full of feelings. I am ashamed for waiting so long before allowing myself to feel all of it, all at once, and it's terrifying though absolutely breathtaking.

I see her blush, too, but she doesn't hide, she looks straight at me.

We lie together in silence for a long while, then she excuses herself for a minute, coming back with a blanket which she bundles up in a makeshift pillow that we share for another extended period. She sneaks one of her arms under my neck, and I inch closer to her. No matter how we lie, we fit, perfectly, like she was made to rest her arms around me, and my fingers were created with the sole purpose of lacing in hers.

But much to my dismay Takahashi-sama pokes his head into the deck while still standing on the ladder, "You kids decent?" he asks.

"Nope. I can't find my pants anywhere," Sei jokes as we sit up in time to see his shadow approach us.

"Youko-chan seems to have a more refined taste, Sei."

"But I am a delicate flower!"

"Yeah, Rosa Gigantea…" he jokes.

"Not as delicate as Takahashi Gigantea," she jabs back.

"That's not a flower," I interrupt their teasing.

"You're not a flower!"

"You're not a flower!"

They say in harmony.

And Takahashi laughs at us like we are children.

Then he brings a chair close to us and sits down, looking at Tokyo, and we talk for another good hour. He tells stories of Sei, and she huffs and puffs at the incriminating punch lines of all his jokes.

But after a while he stands up, excusing himself and asking me to stay as long as I want, he even mentions it's Sei's turn to make breakfast in the morning, but I stand up too, and thank him for the hospitality, "I should get going. It's way past my bedtime," I add.

So, we walk down the ladder –they let me go first– and he says his farewell before walking into his house, Sei and I walk the opposite way, toward the streetlights.

"We should have thought this through, huh?" she asks.

"It is not that big a deal."

"Will you give me a ride back to Takahashi's?"

"No. I am just going to leave you here."

"That's just fair, I guess."

"I can take you home if you'd like…"

"Will you stay with me?"

"No."

"Then I'd rather stay at Takahashi's."

I unlock my car and say, "Okay," to her. And I leave it at that, not because I am one of those prude girls who 'don't put out on the first date,' but because it's Sei, and when it's Sei, I'm scared of what my heart will do. Because it's her I'm terrified I might fall too fast, too deep, without even realizing I'm doing so until it's too late and I am on my knees –figuratively, but also literally–.

I drive us back to Takahashi's, parking the car in front of garage. Then I look at her, "Thank you for today," I say, and she gives me a satisfied smile –she has clearly accomplished whatever she thought she would with today's rendezvous–, "My pleasure," she adds, and I let her lean into my side of the car, placing a kiss on my cheek. The contact lingers for an eternity, and I wish it could have lasted longer. I close my eyes, and I breathe in the last I will have of her for tonight. And it fills my heart with longing even though I haven't left her yet.

But I drive away, and I leave Takahashi's driveway hesitantly, wondering when I will wake up from this dream.