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Yohane was feeling really troubled today.
Of course, that didn’t mean she was never troubled at all — she always had small things to worry about. Like… what to wear, those surprise quizzes in class, or the fact that she couldn’t quite get the hang of using her Xeno ability.
But those were the kinds of problems that always worked out in the end.
Uniforms were the same every day, quizzes could be handled with steady studying, and even her Xeno training was starting to improve thanks to the Student Council’s help.
This time, though, her worries felt different.
She wasn’t sure there even was a solution this time.
“Am I really… good enough?” she thought.
For as long as she could remember, Yohane had looked up to her mother, Marianne Bonaventura — a woman both gentle and strong.
Even her name carried that legacy: Yohane Bonaventura, a name tied to sainthood and hope.
She wanted to live up to it… yet deep down, she wasn’t sure she could.
She cared about everyone — her classmates like Asai Miki, the Student Council members like Ronaldo Castroneves ,Colette Caron and Theodor Bachstein, her teachers like Ms. Anna, even the upperclassmen like Arian Rod and Fiona Hargreaves.
She even managed to forgive Dean, the one who once attacked her and Miki.
But no matter what she did, that voice in her head never stopped whispering:
“You’re just a poor copy of her. You’ll never be like her.”
And maybe, she thought, that was true — she was different from her mother in every way.
Lost in thought, Yohane found herself wandering toward the Student Council room.
Maybe, deep down, she already knew she’d find someone there who could help.
Inside, Theodor Bachstein, the Council President, and Ronaldo Castroneves were looking over some paperwork.
When Yohane stepped in, both of them looked up.
Theodor gave a curt nod. Ronaldo waved, his ever-present hand puppet moving with him.
Yohane smiled softly. “Hey… anything I can help with?”
Theodor didn’t look up from his papers. “Help? Not really. But judging by your face, you’ve got something heavy on your mind.”
His tone was calm, but his words hit right where they needed to.
Ronaldo set down his pen, leaning back as his puppet raised a tiny hand.
“Yeah, you look kinda down today. What’s up? Someone giving you trouble?”
Yohane shook her head, forcing a small smile.
“No… nothing like that. I’ve just been thinking.”
Theodor finally closed his folder and looked directly at her. His pale eyes were sharp but not cold — there was always something steady about him, something quietly reassuring.
“If it’s about your Xeno control, you’ve been improving a lot lately,” he said. “The Council’s noticed.”
“It’s not that,” Yohane murmured, lowering her head and clutching her sleeves.
“It’s just… I keep wondering if I’m really good enough. No matter how hard I try, I just… I’m not like my mom. She always knew what to do, how to make people trust her. How to keep moving forward.”
A moment of silence hung in the air.
Ronaldo frowned, looking like he wanted to say something, but Theodor raised a hand, stopping him.
Then Theodor stood, walked around the desk, and stopped in front of Yohane.
“Your mother was an incredible person,” he said calmly. “But she was Marianne — not you. You don’t need to become her. You just need to be yourself.”
“Be… myself?” Yohane repeated, blinking in confusion.
“Yeah,” Ronaldo’s puppet chimed in softly, his tone gentler than usual. “You know, everything you do for the Council — every little thing you help with — that’s all you. Not a copy of anyone. That’s your own light.”
The words brushed past her heart like a breeze. Yohane didn’t reply right away; she just stood there quietly.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, spilling over the bookshelves and wooden desks. The air smelled faintly of paper and ink.
“…Be myself,” she whispered under her breath.
Theodor gave a small, almost imperceptible smile.
“You don’t have to figure it all out right now,” he said. “Just… don’t deny the version of you that’s still trying.”
Yohane looked up. Her eyes shimmered faintly, as if a new, gentle resolve had sparked inside them.
She bowed her head slightly. “Thank you, both of you.”
Theodor raised a hand, as if to stop her from bowing.
Before he could say anything, Yohane suddenly tilted her head, as if remembering something important.
“Um… sorry if this is rude,” she said, glancing between them.
“Theodor, Ronaldo… I’ve been meaning to ask—
are you two… dating?”