Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei

Side Note #1: As silly as it sounds, "Symbolophilia" is the love of symbols. I don't make up Greek words. I just combine them for my nefarious fanfiction purposes.

Side Note #2:"-dono" is an old honorific not in use anymore, but it basically means "My Lord" or "My Lady", a step down from "-sama".


Symbolophilia


Eileen liked symbolism. She read a lot—rather too much for an eight-year-old—and she went positively gleeful when she could point out that the eclipse meant a great change, or that the sun meant happiness, or that the doves flying away meant an ending. Her love of symbolism also led her to Tarot, which in turn led her into playing cards, which had no symbolism but were the descendants of Tarot, so that meant something. And besides, they were fun.

She also liked nicknames, which was how she came to call Tsubaki "Camille-dono". She liked the Japanese system of honorifics, and upon learning that there was a book character named Camille who had the word "Lady" attached to her name, "Camille-dono" Tsubaki became.

She combined her love of nicknames and symbolism one day, after she had taught Tsubaki all the meanings of the tarot cards and they had played Go Fish for forty-five minutes. Tsubaki was stuck inside, as the damp day would be bad for her lungs, which would in turn be bad for her heart, and both girls were fantastically bored.

"Hey, what does your name mean?" Tsubaki asked suddenly.

"I dunno," Eileen returned. "Let's go look it up."

Tsubaki's father had kept as a keepsake the name book his wife had gotten Tsubaki's name from. Some of the names were in English, but Eileen had grown up bilingual seeing as she had been born when Hong Kong was still a British colony, and she could read them.

Looking up "Eileen" led them to looking up "Helen", the stem from which her name blossomed. It was Greek and it meant "Light".

"Hey, let's look up "Camille"!" Eileen suggested, and they eagerly flipped to the "C" section of Girls' names. It was Latin, and it meant "Pure".

The next day Eileen dropped a white Lily wrapped in blue Baby's Breath on Tsubaki's windowsill, instead of the usual red Camellia.

"I couldn't find anything that meant "light"," she informed Tsubaki, "but my mother says that these mean "purity".

Tsubaki and Eileen eagerly raided the kitchen for a vase that Tsubaki gleefully stuck the Lily and Baby's Breath in, which she then planted on her bedroom windowsill.

Tsubaki cried when the flowers withered a week later, and Eileen, eager to stop her friend from crying, snuck the young debutante out to the bazaar where Eileen's family sold flowers. She first went to a small bookshop and picked out a diary.

"My mother says when the flowers die, you can pick off the leaves and stick them in this book so they smell pretty forever!" Eileen explained, handing over all the pocket change she had amassed in two years to pay for the blank book.

She then grabbed Tsubaki's hand and dragged her to the family flower stall, and presented her with a Lily of the Valley. "Mother says that this means "return of happiness", so you can stop crying now!"

Tsubaki grinned, buried her nose in the Lily of the Valley, and then planted a dainty kiss on Eileen's cheek.

In two years' time Tsubaki was being seen by Muraki-sensei and this was greatly aggravating to Eileen. Not only was Tsubaki was missing out on half their playtime together, she was coming back red-faced and giggling and smiling.

"I heard Kakyoin-san say Muraki-sensei gives you drugs," Eileen said, hugging a pillow to her chest sullenly.

"Those are my medications," Tsubaki corrected.

"My mother takes medications, too, and my father yells at her for it," Eileen retorted, sulking against the couch. Drugs meant yelling and slapping and hiding under your bed, things that Tsubaki didn't belong with.

"My medications are good for my heart!" Tsubaki insisted, flushing and teary.

They parted on angry terms and Eileen reported the story to her mother. Eyes scattershot, her mother had told Eileen the truth of what she was feeling. The next day Eileen left a French Marigold on Tsubaki's windowsill, and then apologized while scuffing her foot against the ground and not exactly looking the girl in the eyes. Tsubaki accepted the apology and didn't bother to ask what the plant meant; now begging Eileen to teach her to play this funny-sounding game called poker.

In one year's time Tsubaki's father had worked out a deal with Eileen's—"give me the girl and I'll pay you whatever you want." Eyes gleaming at the thought of money, Eileen's father gave his daughter a bouquet of Buttercups and told her to put it on her mother's grave, "So I can finally show her". Buttercups meant "riches" and Eileen told her mother at the cemetery that he could keep his riches, because Eileen had her Camille-dono. She threw the flowers in the trash and went back to the flower stall, stealing a bouquet and bringing it to the Queen Camellia.

"Thirteen yellow Roses," she said proudly when she handed the bouquet to Tsubaki. "That means "friends forever"."

Eileen settled into life in the Queen Camellia. The ship still seemed foreign to her—Tsubaki had to guide her everywhere—but it was comfortable and she found her way around.

Tsubaki's father informed them that Tsubaki would be having an operation on the ship after it pulled into port, but the girls could have a day of fun in Tsubaki's hometown of Hakata before the procedure. Knowing that Eileen had missed the colors and scents of her flower stall, Tsubaki took her to a florist shop with the pocket money her father had given them.

"Here, you should have this," Eileen said, pointing to a faint purple Azalea. She paid for it and immediately handed it over to Tsubaki. "This means "Take care of yourself for me"."

Tsubaki, feeling it only right that she return the favor, picked up a leaflet describing the symbolism of flowers, and Eileen was rewarded with nine red-and-white-striped Roses.

"The nine means "together forever"," Tsubaki informed her, "and the stripes mean "Unity", so that just backs it up, doesn't it?"

They raced each other back to the ship; Eileen won.

"Eileen-san, I wonder if you could accompany me?" Tsubaki's father asked of her the next day, pulling her over.

"Is Camille-dono okay?" Eileen asked worriedly.

"They're starting the operation soon. I think it would help her greatly if you were there. Will you come with me?"

"Of course! Anything for Camille-dono."

In one month's time Tsubaki was crying in her doctor's office. "Tsubaki-hime, I'll tell you where your heart came from if your promise not to tell your father."

In two months' time Tsubaki was back in the florist shop, with the leaflet.

"Crimson Rose—Mourning."

"Red Carnation—Heartache."

"Calendula—Grief."

"Rosemary—Remembrance."

She took these four back to her room on the Queen Camellia, put them in the vase that had once housed her white Lily, and then went out to the party that was being held for her successful transplant. As she came down the stairs, her doctor handed her a bouquet of Narcissus, smiling at her. When she returned to her room, she discovered that they meant "Stay as sweet as you are."

The next morning, the Narcissus she had placed on her desk had disappeared, and in its stead laid a Tuberose—"Dangerous pleasure"—and an Oleander—"Beware".

"Eileen?" she called, and felt a tug at her newly installed heart. "Eileen?" she called again, and felt tears well up in her eyes. "Doctor!" she finally shrieked, and something within her disappeared.

When the flowers died she tried to pluck off the leaves and put them in her book, but she found to her horror that it had been left ashore in Hakata.

In three days' time she still wasn't finished crying about it.

In three years' time Tsubaki was becoming a young lady. Not to mention, three years brought about an ever-stronger admiration for her doctor.

The ship had returned to Hakata many times, but Tsubaki could never find the will to go and get that book of pressed flowers and their faded scent, not when she thought about Muraki-sensei.

On her thirteenth birthday she found, lying neatly on her desk, a purple Lilac. Sitting primly next to it was a bright yellow Jonquil.

Eagerly she searched out her dog-eared and age-worn leaflet. The flowers read "first love" and then "desire for returned affection."

"Father, did Muraki-sensei give me these flowers?"

Tetsuya looked up from his desk to look at his red-faced, breathless daughter. "Camille, Muraki-sensei is in Kanagawa Prefecture for the next several months, remember?"

"Oh," Tsubaki said. "But then…who sent these?"

"An admirer?" Her father smiled coyly.

"You don't let me have those, Father," Tsubaki reminded him. She took her flowers back to her room. The bright orange center of her Jonquil beckoned her, standing up pursed like lips. She couldn't help it—she placed her mouth upon the stuck-up petals.

Something in her heart ached beautifully and she thought to herself she had just had her real first kiss.

For her fourteenth birthday, she found a cut branch of pink Honeysuckle sitting on her desk. "Devoted affection."

For her fifteenth birthday, she found a pot of dark pink Amaranth sitting on her desk. "Unfading love."

The flowers continued to both elate and confuse Tsubaki. For her last two birthdays, Muraki-sensei had been conveniently absent from the boat. Also, the day prior, she was a victim of amnesia, and she woke up to find her wallet slightly emptier. She visited all the flower stalls in the general vicinity, asking if she had been there the day before.

Each and every one of them insisted that a girl her age, but with long hair and a hidden face, was the one to make the purchase. But Tsubaki knew no girls with long hair—she barely knew any girls at all.

Her admirer was apparently waiting for her to catch a clue, too, as her sixteenth birthday yielded a bright pink Peach Blossom. "I am your captive."

Unfortunately, Tsubaki's deductive skills had always been lacking.

On her seventeenth birthday, her desk sported her namesake—a bright red Camellia. Tsubaki had known since discovering the flower existed that, when given romantically, it meant "You are the flame of my heart."

There was a very sharp tug in her chest that left her breathless.

Lying next to it was another Oleander. Looking at it struck a spark of fear in her stomach. Something made her reach for the aged leaflet. In her mind were the flower Eileen had given her seven years ago.

"French Marigold—Jealousy."

Suddenly not quite in control of her muscles, Tsubaki picked up the Camellia and stuck a pin through it, and attached it to the bodice of her dress, directly over her heart. The blood-pumping organ grew very warm, and then suddenly extremely hot. She had to sit down, her hand clutched to her chest, as her lungs tried to expand and call for help and failed.

In two weeks' time she was lying almost completely underwater, consciousness very slowly receding from her as pain very quickly doubled.

Hisoka and Muraki-sensei were both incredibly lousy shots.

Though it might have been what she deserved.

She felt a lovely ache in her chest, and then lightness. Through her blurry vision she could see a girl with long hair looking down on her and offering a hand. Without moving at all, she took the girl's hand and rose. She could see through both herself and her companion, only faint pigmentation revealing they were there at all.

"I'm sorry you had to give me that French Marigold."

Eileen regarded her silently, before handing her a pink Larkspur.

"Ardent attachment," Tsubaki said automatically. "That's true."

Eileen smiled, and handed her a white Rose.

"No, Eileen," Tsubaki said, and Eileen looked startled. "I'm not anyone you need to be "worthy" for."

Not knowing when it had ever entered her own hand, she gave a yellow Tulip to her childhood playmate.

"Your name means "light", doesn't it?" Eileen nodded. "Well, "sunshine in your smile" was the closest I could find."

Eileen smiled. Light filled Tsubaki's eyes.

Eileen held up a Tarot card. The Lovers. She reached out a hand and touched Tsubaki's heart.

"My soulmate."

Eileen nodded, and held up another card. The World.

"It's over."

Eileen nodded again. "Did you miss me?"

"More than even I'll ever know."

They lay down beside each other, eyes closed, their wrists wrapped up in white Periwinkle—the pleasures of memory.

Pure light washed over them, and they were gone.

The executors of the Kakyoin estate were surprised to find a diary with pressed flowers in it after the deaths of Tetsuya and Tsubaki.

They were even more suprised to find every petal thriving.