Chapter Text
Even though she was tired, Fumi couldn’t sleep.
She was huddled inside a thin futon inside this cheap and spartan apartment she had just moved into two weeks ago. The apartment was still dusty, as she hadn’t done nearly as much cleaning up as she should have. Fumi was surrounded by clutter, including various boxes she still hadn’t unpacked, and random pieces of furniture left behind by the landlord or the apartment’s previous owners. Fumi had only done just enough to allow herself to cook, eat, do homework, and sleep; the apartment had little for entertainment other than an old TV, but Fumi was uninterested in television, and she hadn’t been in the mood to go out, either. No matter how much she tried to keep her eyes shut and go to sleep, they would blink back open in seconds, so all Fumi could do was stare at the ceiling and remain lost in her thoughts, all alone.
It had only been a few days since she had moved to this apartment near Rinmeikan Girls’ School, which she had recently enrolled in. Fumi had chosen this apartment herself, as she didn’t want to financially burden her parents any more than she had to after she left Siegfeld. When Fumi had told them about her desire to leave Siegfeld just a few weeks earlier, her parents were shocked and concerned that she would leave Shiori and all of her dreams behind, but they trusted her judgment, and immediately began helping her begin a new life away from Siegfeld. Indeed, going to Rinmeikan was their suggestion in the first place. Before she knew it, Fumi had started life as a normal girl. She was no longer Frau Jade, one of the top students of one of the best performing arts schools in the world. She was just… Fumi Yumeoji, a regular teenage girl.
It was true that Fumi was relieved that her parents didn’t judge her. After she had left Siegfeld, Fumi knew that she could no longer find comfort in the things she used to, like the stage and her little sister and the girl she lo—no, Fumi had no right to think that now. Right now, her parents were the only sanctuary she had left, and Fumi was incredibly grateful to have them in her life. And yet, that thought didn’t make her very happy, because all it did was remind Fumi of how few people she had left that she could allow herself to rely on. At the moment, it was just herself and technically her parents, and Fumi had deliberately shied away from asking for her parents’ help more than she had to, so ultimately, she was well and truly alone.
This is my life now, huh?
Truth be told, Rinmeikan wasn’t so bad. From what little time she had spent there, it seemed to Fumi that the classes were of a reasonable difficulty, and it looked like the teachers were passionate about teaching, so all of the students seemed to be satisfied. But as nice as Rinmeikan was, Fumi couldn’t shake off the feeling that her life was incomplete without the stage. Without the purpose that had driven her for her entire life, without the promise of the stage, Fumi felt lost, hollow and empty.
Fumi picked up her phone from a stand next to her and began absentmindedly thumbing the buttons on it as she stared at its stock image lock screen. It was a new phone she had bought for cheap, as she couldn’t bear to keep her old phone around along with all the old memories in it. As hard as she had tried to discard those memories, though, she never succeeded in preventing herself from thinking about them for very long. As the light of the phone dimly lit the dark room, Fumi constantly found her thoughts drifting back to Siegfeld.
How were the other Edels and Shiori doing, now that she had left Siegfeld? They were probably dealing with the fallout of her departure at the moment—dealing with the loss of one of their top performers, one of the faces of Siegfeld, would certainly damage them. Fumi figured that the other Edels probably hated her now. Akira was probably disparaging her name and looking down on her for being an unworthy Edel, Michiru was probably mad that she derailed her plans, and Mei Fan took Edelhood very seriously and probably would struggle to understand her actions.
She wondered about Shiori. Certainly, Shiori would be angry and hurt at her leaving Siegfeld. It was always their dream to stand on stage together, but Fumi broke that promise, and Shiori would now have to continue on without it. Fumi missed the days when she was able to be a good big sister for Shiori, the days when they shared everything with each other, supported each other, and could tell each other anything. She missed the bright, earnest look in Shiori’s eyes, working as hard as she could to make Fumi proud. Fumi wished she didn’t have to leave Shiori at all.
Fumi wondered if Shiori would become Frau Jade in her place, and if Shiori would do better as an Edel than she ever did. Fumi gripped her phone, almost crushing it. Shiori was going to become better than her in every way, while Fumi languished in a life away from the stage. When she realized what she was thinking, though, her grip loosened and her momentary jealousy quickly drained away, aching guilt rushing in to take its place. There was no reason for Fumi to be jealous of Shiori anymore, not when she had abandoned her life as a stage girl—exactly what Fumi intended when she left Siegfeld. The fact that Fumi still had these terrible feelings in any shape or form only reminded her that leaving was the right decision. In the end, Shiori’s life would be better without Fumi. She deserved better than having a weak, petty, hateful, and jealous sister like Fumi in her life. Fumi couldn’t—shouldn't—say anything to her, and thus burden her with Fumi’s worthless, hurtful feelings.
With that, Fumi found her thoughts drifting again. After what seemed like minutes—or hours—Fumi found herself at the empty contacts list of her new phone. If she wanted, she could easily re-add all of the people on her old contacts list. Staring at the “add contact” screen, Fumi subconsciously began repeatedly tracing a pattern on her phone’s buttons, and only after doing so several times did Fumi realize that she was subconsciously thumbing a phone number. Her phone number.
Yachiyo’s phone number.
More than ever, Fumi missed Yachiyo. She missed the days when they would just hang out together without a care in the world, away from the many expectations that trapped Fumi. She missed how she would always be there with a calm attitude, a soft smile, or a distracting comment whenever Fumi was feeling down. She missed those infrequent moments where they held hands, where squeezing her hand made Fumi feel as if things were going to be okay, as long as there was one person who unconditionally cared about her.
She wondered how badly Yachiyo took her departure. After all, Fumi wasn’t just a friend or fellow Edel to Yachiyo, she was her girlfriend, and she would surely be hurt greatly by being ghosted by her significant other. What would a broken-hearted Yachiyo even look like? Perhaps she would break down emotionally, her heart irreversibly scarred—okay, that sounded a bit overdramatic, and Yachiyo didn’t seem like the type to do that, but Fumi never really got acquainted with the deeper parts of Yachiyo’s psyche, so she feared anything could happen. Perhaps Yachiyo would begin to hate her—Yachiyo always seemed kind and forgiving during the time Fumi knew her, but surely Yachiyo had a limit to how much of Fumi’s weakness she could tolerate before she would give up on her.
Or maybe Yachiyo would just move on and forget about her. Fumi understood that Yachiyo did care about her, but she was never really sure if she meant that much to Yachiyo—by all appearances, Yachiyo was very casual and relaxed about their relationship, and she never really acted intensely affectionate or emotionally vulnerable around her. Perhaps Yachiyo was never truly committed to Fumi, and she saw her only as someone she could relax around and talk to on occasion while she pursued her real happiness on the stage. It hurt Fumi to think that Yachiyo cared about her less than she did about her, but if Fumi were honest with herself, it would be for the best if she thought that way. An ambitious and driven stage girl like Yachiyo had better things to worry about than her. She didn’t need Fumi in her life dragging her down.
Ultimately, Fumi was fairly certain that she would have made things worse if she stayed. They didn’t need someone like her anyways. The last thing she wanted was to hurt the other Edels, hurt Shiori, hurt Yachiyo, and if removing herself from her life would hurt them less than staying, then so be it.
Fumi stopped thumbing the buttons on her phone, and closed her empty contacts list. But she continued to stare at her phone for a while longer.
Upon pondering her regrets, Fumi vaguely felt like crying. But Fumi had no right to cry. After all, it was her fault, her weakness, that caused everyone so much trouble in the first place. Fumi could blame nothing and no one but herself for how things turned out. Fumi didn’t deserve to wallow in her feelings—she would just have to resign herself to her fate, suppress her pain and regrets, and trudge forward on her new path in life at Rinmeikan, unwanted as it may be.
Fumi shut her phone. The phone’s dim light was snuffed out, giving way to darkness.
Yachiyo opened her eyes, her deep slumber giving way to the light of the morning sun.
Yachiyo remembered that she had gone to bed early yesterday. The day had left her exhausted, and she knew that there was going to be a lot of work to be done in the days that followed, because…
Oh, right.
Because Fumi had left Siegfeld.
At that thought, Yachiyo vaguely wanted to stay in bed—not just for five or fifteen minutes longer, but for a long while. This was the first day since she became an Edel that Fumi wasn’t in her life. She wasn’t sure what a world without her looked like, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know.
Yachiyo picked up her phone from the nightstand next to her. Opening her contacts, she scrolled down the list until she found Fumi’s contact information, and her thumb trembled as it hovered over Fumi’s name. If what Michiru said yesterday was accurate, Fumi’s old number was defunct and she would get no answer. Even knowing this, though, Yachiyo wanted to try to contact her; a part of her wanted a miracle to happen, for Fumi to respond, so that Yachiyo could tell her everything she failed to say to her before. It was too late to change what had happened, but at the very least, she could tell her she was sorry for everything. It was a foolish hope, but it couldn’t hurt to try, right?
Yachiyo pressed the button.
For a few tense seconds, the phone rang. And then...
An automated response. The number was no longer active.
Fumi really was gone.
For a while, Yachiyo laid there, staring at Fumi’s contact information on her phone, vaguely wanting to cry, as thoughts of sadness, guilt, and regret swirled around in her head. Yachiyo had subconsciously taken her for granted for so long, even though she had always been aware of how close Fumi was to breaking down, so it was only now that she realized just how much Fumi meant to her.
Yachiyo began to flip through her photos, photos she had taken of Fumi throughout the time she knew her. Photos of them together in costume after their plays, photos of them hanging out and going on dates, photos of them after practice, a photo of that time where Fumi fell asleep while leaning on her...
For the longest time, Yachiyo had stood on her own two feet alone. Since childhood, Yachiyo had liked daydreaming and imagining herself as other people, but no one really understood her—not even her family really understood her all that well, as much as she loved them. Yachiyo resigned herself to believing that no one would ever understand her in her entirety, nor would anyone want to, so she decided that the only person she could rely on to bring her happiness was herself. To that end, she worked hard to get into Siegfeld to pursue her dreams of standing on stage.
At first, Yachiyo wasn’t really interested in making friends at Siegfeld. She had many casual friends here and there, but she was happy enough focusing on perfecting her craft above all else, and she didn’t think people would be that interested in getting to know her as a person anyways. Before Fumi, Yachiyo hadn’t gone out of her way to befriend anyone, but despite herself, she found herself drawn to Fumi due to her prideful facade. She discovered Fumi could actually be quite kind and caring, and before she knew it, she and Fumi became close friends, and she found Fumi going out of her way to look out for her.
It was little things, things like helping her with practice, always waiting for her to wake up so that they could walk to school together, reminding her to go to sleep early, and bringing her coffee when she didn’t have any that caused Yachiyo to grow comfortable around Fumi. Yachiyo was good at taking care of herself, so she was never needy or dependent on Fumi, but seeing someone put in extra effort just for her, without having to, felt… nice. While Siegfeld was the first place in her life that made Yachiyo feel accepted and liked for herself, Fumi was the first person in her life that made Yachiyo feel cared for for herself.
But now, Fumi was gone, and it was Yachiyo’s fault. Yachiyo was the only one who knew what Fumi was going through, but she didn’t do anything to help her. There were so many things she should have said, to Fumi, to the other Edels, to her little sister Shiori, anything to show Fumi that she wasn’t alone and that there were people who would support her. But she didn’t. She failed, and now, Fumi’s warmth was gone from her life.
But...
But as Yachiyo continued to scroll, she began to see less and less photos of Fumi, and more photos of herself. Selfies of her practicing, selfies of herself after performing the main role of a play, selfies of herself right after she became an Edel, various costumes and outfits she found interesting or made herself… Yachiyo was witnessing a steady flow of her own achievements and past roles, her hopes and her dreams. Before she knew it, Yachiyo found herself smiling ever so slightly, reminiscing about the many roles she had enjoyed playing, even as the pain left by Fumi’s departure weighed on her heart.
It was true Fumi was gone, that Yachiyo would be less happy without her, that it would hurt to think about her. But there was no real point in wallowing in her feelings. There was so much work to be done, especially since Yachiyo still had a life to live, especially since the other Edels were still probably mad at Fumi and Yachiyo had to prove to them that Fumi’s departure was not a mistake. Yachiyo wallowing would help no one. It wasn’t productive. There were things she had to do. All Yachiyo could do was accept that Fumi left, come to terms with her pain and regrets, and move forward with her life. Perhaps she’d find others like Fumi.
Yachiyo returned to her contact list and scrolled down to Fumi’s contact information. After a moment’s hesitation, she deleted it. She saw no point in keeping outdated contact information around, after all, and she had to make a clean break. A part of her didn’t want to let it go, wanted to hold on to the shred of hope that Fumi would use her old number again, but Yachiyo wasn’t a fool, nor was she the type to obsess over the past. Fumi being gone was her new reality now, and the logical thing to do was to move on.
Finally, Yachiyo shut her phone.
She sat up. She dragged herself from her bed. And she left her room to begin her morning routine.
Fully dressed and prepared for the day, Yachiyo walked into the dorm common room.
“Morning, Yachiyo! You’re up earlier than usual. Still a bit later than everyone else, but earlier than usual.”
The first thing Yachiyo saw was Michiru looking back at her from the sofa, with her usual unreadably cheerful smile on. Yachiyo briefly scanned the room; she could hear Akira and Mei Fan making conversation from the kitchen a few rooms away, but otherwise, no one else was around.
Upon confirming that Fumi wasn’t there, Yachiyo felt a pang of emptiness. Fumi was always up earlier than her, and while she would always tell her off for not waking up earlier, Yachiyo had noticed that she was always there to meet her to walk to school even when the other Edels had already gone on ahead. It was another one of those little things that she was going to have to do without.
“Oh, hey, Michiru-senpai. Good morning to you, too.” Yachiyo gave her a little wave, one of her standard greeting gestures. Michiru was a perceptive one, much like herself, and she was probably probing Yachiyo’s behavior for any indication that Fumi’s departure affected her—best to act as normal as possible. “Yeah, I figured that it was best to turn in early yesterday. I mean, with Fumi-senpai... gone, and all,” Yachiyo said, almost forcing the word ‘gone’ out of her mouth, “things are probably going to get busy, so it made sense to get more sleep.”
“Ah, that makes sense. I was worried that Fumi leaving would have done a number on you.”
“I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine. Really,” Yachiyo said, waving away Michiru’s concerns. “I’m ready to tackle anything I need to do.”
“Is that so? The others and I know you were dating Fumi. We’re all a little bit worried about you, you know.” As Michiru said this, she turned her body and kneeled on the sofa to directly face Yachiyo, giving her a focused and seemingly concerned look. Yachiyo doubted that Michiru thought she was fully ready to return to her duties as an Edel when Fumi had just left—not an unreasonable assumption, considering that as far as Yachiyo knew, breakups were supposed to hurt, and Yachiyo was hurt.
“Hmm. Well, if you’re going to be a bit more lenient with me from now on, I certainly won’t complain,” Yachiyo quipped back, leaning on the doorframe she came through. “I won’t say that I’m not totally-heartbroken-and-sad that Fumi-senpai left,” Yachiyo said, as casually as if she were talking about the weather, “but I think there are more important things to worry about at the moment.”
“That’s good, then,” Michiru responded cheerfully. “I can’t say that the school encourages Edels to date, precisely because of situations like this, but I guess it’s too late to worry about that now. All we can do now is handle the fallout as best as we can.”
It didn’t seem that Michiru was all that mad at her for taking the risk of dating Fumi. If she was angry and wanted to confront her about her questionable choices, she would have probably already taken the opportunity to chide her, even in her usual cheerful manner. But for some reason, she hadn’t, deciding to gloss over it instead.
“Oh, by the way, Michiru-senpai. How did you know that Fumi-senpai and I were dating?” Yachiyo asked. She thought it was odd that Mei Fan brought it up yesterday; she didn’t initially pay it much mind because of the shock of Fumi being gone, but Michiru bringing it up reminded her of it. “We were trying our best to hide it, you know. I wasn’t even sure if what we were doing would look like dating to an outside observer.”
“Ahaha, well, let’s just say it wasn’t that hard for me to figure out.” Keeping quiet, huh, Michiru-senpai? Fair enough, Yachiyo thought. Michiru continued, “Don’t worry, though, I don’t think anyone else realized what was going on between you two by themselves, although I did alert Akira and Mei Fan. We were keeping an eye on you two to make sure that it wasn’t affecting your performance, but nothing came of it. Not before Fumi left, anyways.”
“Ah…” So they really were keeping an eye on us even back then, Yachiyo thought. “...I maintain that Fumi-senpai didn't tell me anything about why she left, but at the very least, I’m sure that our relationship had nothing to do with it. We never got into fights or anything like that. Besides, we weren’t even dating for that long, so there was no time for any problems to pop up.”
“Hmmmm. I’ll trust you on that one. Anyways, it looks like you already get that things are going to be hectic and that you’ll have to work harder than ever, which is good. Not everyone’s going to cut the Edels slack just because we lost one of our members, after all. Especially not Akira. Well, I won’t keep you from breakfast any longer. So see you in a bit, Yachiyo!”
Letting me off the hook already? Weird, but I won’t complain. “Right, right. Well, see you, Michiru-senpai.” Yachiyo slipped out of the room before Michiru changed her mind and decided to scrutinize her further.
No slack, huh? Well, I wasn’t planning on cutting myself any slack, either.
As Yachiyo approached the kitchen, she overheard Akira and Mei Fan talking, still continuing their chat from earlier.
“...This is probably a tough time for Yachiyo, Akira-san.”
“That may be so, but that doesn’t change the situation we’re in.”
Sounds like they’re talking about me.
Deciding not to wait until she could naturally enter the conversation, Yachiyo snuck up to Mei Fan and Akira, who had already finished their breakfast and were now just talking at the table.
“Good morning, gals!”
With that, Mei Fan jolted up, almost jumping out of her seat, while Akira was unfazed at Yachiyo’s sudden presence. “Y-Yachiyo!?” Mei Fan stammered, quickly turning her head in surprise, while Akira simply acknowledged Yachiyo’s presence with a nod and an “Ah, you’re awake.”
“So what’s up? It sounded like you were talking about me.”
“Well, I was worried about you, so I was talking about Akira about how… you might not be in tip-top shape right now.”
“And I told her that even if you were dating Fumi and were wounded by her departure, it would still be no excuse for neglecting your duties as an Edel,” Akira said bluntly.
“Look, I appreciate that you care, Mei Fan,” Yachiyo said in the most gentle voice she could put up without breaking her veneer of detachment, “but like I told you yesterday, I’ll be fine.” Turning to Akira, Yachiyo continued, “There’s nothing for you to worry about, Akira-senpai. As Frau Perle, it would be unbecoming of me if I let myself fall behind just because of something like this.” Not that the prestige of being Frau Perle was a big deal to Yachiyo, but she figured that bringing it up would make it sound more convincing to Akira and Mei Fan.
“Very well. But I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” Akira said, her gaze meeting Yachiyo’s. “It was an irresponsible choice to enter a relationship with Fumi in the first place,” she continued in an authoritative tone, “and I only said nothing because your performance had not shown any irregularities before Fumi left. If you allow yourself to falter now, I will hold you responsible.”
“And I am prepared to accept responsibility for any consequences of my actions, Akira-senpai,” Yachiyo replied, standing firm against Akira's judgmental gaze. With that, Yachiyo abruptly flipped back to a cheerful tone, taking the opportunity to end the current conversation and steer the topic away from herself. “But enough about me. What do you two think about Fumi leaving?”
A silence came over the room. Akira continued to face Yachiyo’s direction, but in that moment, it was as if she was no longer looking at Yachiyo, but past her.
“She...” Akira paused for a while, as if to gather her thoughts—unusual, Yachiyo thought, for someone who was expected to be a decisive leader. “...Fumi abandoned her duty. In the end, she was unworthy of being Frau Jade.”
Yachiyo went quiet.
...Is that how you really see her now, Akira-senpai?
“I still can’t understand why Fumi-san left,” Mei Fan pondered, sulking. “How could someone leave the prestigious title of Edel behind like that? Did everything she had accomplished, all the people that were depending on her, mean nothing to her?”
Of course they did. Fumi-senpai is a kind and empathetic person, and I think she knew exactly how people would feel when she left. She didn’t make this decision lightly.
“I had believed that the decline in Fumi’s performance we had seen would be temporary. But... she never recovered.” Akira looked pensive, and she was almost staring into space, looking at neither of her juniors. “All I can presume is that her departure was connected to that.”
It was more than a decline! She was hurt!
“But then, why was Fumi-san doing worse? She never told us anything! She didn’t say anything to you or Michiru-san, who she had done Elysion with, nor to Yachiyo, her own girlfriend...” Mei Fan had a pained and angry look on her face as she continued, “If she was going through something, if the pressure of being an Edel was becoming too much for her, she would have told us what was going on… right?”
No, she wouldn’t have, because she felt that she couldn’t trust any of us.
“It is not my place to speculate on what Fumi would or would not have done. However, I cannot argue with the results of the actions she took. I believe it is clear that whatever was troubling her, she did not take sufficient measures to overcome it. In leaving, she admitted defeat. Disgraceful,” Akira almost spat.
...Do you really think so little of her now?
Akira paused.
Then, after a tense moment, she shook her head. Looking downwards at the table, she muttered, “...I do not wish to say anything more. As I said yesterday, there isn’t much point in speculating why Fumi left.”
Yachiyo had been scanning Akira’s words carefully. She was unsurprised to find cold disappointment in Fumi in Akira’s words, but in Akira’s nearly undetectable hesitation, Yachiyo sensed the barest hints of something... more than that. Yachiyo presumed Akira felt at least some sorrow over Fumi, her longtime comrade, being gone, even though she felt the need to maintain her cold persona in front of others.
Regardless, however, Yachiyo found that a deep, unsettling feeling had come to rest in her stomach due to Akira and Mei Fan’s words.
It didn’t make Yachiyo very happy that the other Edels thought less of Fumi for leaving. Fumi had to leave Siegfeld—its cutthroat and competitive environment caused Fumi to suppress her caring side to focus on getting ahead, it caused her to see her own sister as a threat, and in the end, it caused her to hate herself so much that she came to believe that they would be better off without her. It wasn’t the right place for her, and she would be better off away from it. Yachiyo knew that the other Edels didn’t know why Fumi left and it would be hard for them to understand Fumi’s feelings, but it didn’t feel right that they were so focused on what Fumi’s departure meant for themselves and for Siegfeld’s reputation, not what it meant for Fumi. It was one thing for the Edels to be mad at Yachiyo for dating Fumi. That, she could handle. But she couldn’t stand the thought of them being mad at Fumi for leaving.
Fumi was beautiful, smart, driven, caring, nurturing, and brilliant. Even though suffering in silence at Siegfeld had worn away at some of those qualities, it wouldn’t change Yachiyo’s opinion of her. Yachiyo would continue to think the world of her.
Now, Yachiyo was certain that she would have to try to help them realize that Fumi had good reasons to leave. She seemed to be the only person who was willing to stick up for Fumi. Yachiyo badly wanted to say something, anything, to change their minds about Fumi… but Yachiyo felt that she couldn’t openly defend her, as that would risk exposing her true feelings and Fumi’s secrets. She would have to take some time to come up with a plan to subtly convey Fumi’s feelings.
Yachiyo frowned just a little bit, almost imperceptibly. That was as much emotion as she would allow herself to show at Akira’s harsh words to Fumi.
“...I see.”
For several heavy seconds, no one said a word. Neither Akira, Mei Fan, nor Yachiyo were making eye contact with each other. Even though Yachiyo came into this conversation to collect information about how the others felt about Fumi, for some reason, Yachiyo didn’t want to continue this conversation any longer.
“...Well, if it’s alright with you two, I’ll go get breakfast now.”
In the weeks that followed, there was a whirlwind of activity in Siegfeld as everyone worked to fill the hole left by Fumi’s departure. Plays rescheduled, roles reassigned, paperwork done, practices redone, and lots of reassuring the faculty and student body that Siegfeld could recover from this blow to its pride.
In the middle of it all, Yachiyo carried on as usual, appearing as unflappable and as motivated as ever. Her grades remained excellent, and her performance during practices and shows did not falter. Yachiyo was a highly disciplined Siegfeld student, after all—as relaxed as her attitude seemed, she took performing seriously, and part of that included doing things even when she wasn’t in the mood to do them.
Yachiyo would not allow her performance to suffer due to Fumi’s departure—instead, she tried to use it to motivate herself. What would the other Edels think, if they saw her having a moment of weakness? Not only would they be disappointed in her for failing to uphold the standards expected of an Edel, they would probably blame her difficulties on Fumi's departure, and Yachiyo hated the idea of them blaming Fumi any more than they already did. What would Fumi think, if she heard that Yachiyo’s brilliance faded due to her departure? She would begin to feel guilty about leaving and blame herself, which was one of the last things Yachiyo wanted Fumi to feel; she did not want Fumi to regret leaving Siegfeld. Most of all, what would happen to Yachiyo’s dreams of standing on stage? She couldn’t let Fumi’s departure derail her life.
Of course, it wasn’t as if Fumi’s departure didn’t make its mark upon Yachiyo. Each day was filled with reminders that Fumi was gone from her life, that Yachiyo was back to being alone in her heart. Now that she discovered what it was like to be deeply cared for, she would miss it greatly. But she refused to dwell on those feelings; they weren’t important, and they would only get in the way.
Even with Yachiyo consciously suppressing her feelings, though, she was a little bit disturbed by how well she was taking Fumi’s departure. She had expected to put in a significant amount of effort willing herself to not let herself show any outward signs of hurt, but instead, she found it much easier than she expected. Yachiyo interpreted this as a sign that she wasn’t the right person for Fumi. She thought Fumi deserved someone who cared about her more deeply than Yachiyo was capable of, and she also believed it would be best if Fumi was with someone who needed her more than Yachiyo needed her.
Ultimately, the last thing Yachiyo wanted was for anyone to be burdened by her problems. They were for her to handle alone.
While Yachiyo found controlling her own feelings easy enough, though, dealing with other people’s feelings regarding Fumi’s departure was significantly harder. Yachiyo winced whenever she heard others disparage Fumi throughout Siegfeld. They kept saying she “abandoned” them, that she “betrayed” them, that Fumi was unworthy of the title of Frau Jade. Yachiyo badly wanted to say out loud that Fumi didn’t abandon or betray them at all, that she was in pain, that she had good reasons to leave, but she couldn’t say anything.
Yachiyo wasn’t sure how she could sway the other Edels into forgiving Fumi. Yachiyo sensed a tiny amount of guilt from Akira, but it was buried under her harsh, cold, and unforgiving personality. Mei Fan was a kinder person, but she put a lot of stock into the prestige of Edelhood, so she might not be able to understand Fumi’s actions at all. And, as usual, Yachiyo was never sure what Michiru was thinking.
Yachiyo did come up with a few ideas to help them understand Fumi, but for now, Yachiyo decided to watch and wait. Maybe with time, as the wounds left by Fumi’s departure slowly healed, they would be more open to forgiving and understanding Fumi.
Finally, Yachiyo thought about Fumi herself. How was she doing? Was she doing okay? Yachiyo couldn’t guess, as Fumi hadn’t kept in contact with her. She was probably in a bad state right now, suffering with no one except perhaps her parents to turn to. Yachiyo hoped that, wished that, almost prayed that Fumi would find happiness again, that she would let go of her unwanted jealousy of her sister, that she would find a place she belonged. She wanted nothing more than for Fumi to laugh and smile again, to be the kind and caring person Yachiyo saw mere glimpses of back in Siegfeld, to move on and find another reason to live.
If there was someone, anyone, out there who could ensure that, Yachiyo would be forever grateful to them.