A Goddess Wears Orange

Chapter 7

The next few days fell into a pattern. With one week left before school fair, time had become a scarce resource, with their schedules crammed from top to bottom with classes; working feverishly with the Physical Arrangements Committee to finish the props and decorations on time; and for Ren, practicing for the basketball exhibition game. Since Ren’s Goddess-training regimen for her included regular meditation sessions every morning, Yumi was forced to wake up earlier than usual. And even though they were both tired by the time they came home, Ren still made Yumi practice blocking him off with her visualization technique for at least an hour, sometimes even longer, until it was all she could do not to drop off to sleep where she stood. 

Afterward, he would either walk her home—or if they were hanging out at her place, linger a while longer—so he could talk to Tala. Yumi always made sure to disappear during those times, something she was only too glad to do. With each passing day, it was getting harder and harder to watch the two of them together, to see him looking so easy and comfortable in her sister’s company, to know that her own time with Ren was running out and he’d soon be out of her reach completely. 

She beat back her jealousy and simmering resentment of her sister by reminding herself of how happy Ren had been feeling in the past few days. His threads had a lightness and warmth that she hadn’t felt before they struck their deal. And, to her everlasting surprise, feeling his happiness made her happy. She wanted him to be happy, and she had no doubt that it was her sister who had given his energy that extra glow. So to keep him feeling that way, she did everything she could think of to get the two of them together—arrange “accidental” encounters for them at school or at home; sing Ren’s praises to her sister; nag Tala non-stop until she promised to watch the basketball exhibition game; and in general work up to that inevitable climax: making sure Ren got to confess to Tala properly, and getting them together in time for Students’ Night. 

Yumi did it, even though it was killing her. Even though she was starting to have crying jags at odd moments, forcing her to flee to the sanctuary of the garden, either alone or the company of her friends. Even though sometimes Yumi could swear she hated her sister—her gorgeous, smart, elegant, wonderful, popular, perfect sister, adored by everyone, including the boy she wanted. 

On the bright side, though, her training was starting to pay off. She was getting better and better at imagining her orange-peel shield when she was connecting, and holding it steady until she ended the connection. Soon, she found that she could “peel” a strip off of her golden-orange shield to allow her to feel the love-threads radiating from his hands—and only those threads in particular. It enabled her to read love fortunes without having to invade a person’s deepest, most intimate core, not to mention it made it easier for her to seal up her orange shield and break the link. 

Her crowing about that to Ren one night led to their next fight. “Don’t get carried away. We still haven’t gotten around to figuring out how to deal with sensory overload,” he cautioned. “Remember, you’re going to have to connect with hundreds of people for five days straight. Your orange technique won’t work if you’re mentally exhausted.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him. “There you go again, raining on my parade. Oh, I know what’ll cheer you up! I’m going to tell you your love-fortune.” 

His expression grew troubled. “You don’t have to.” 

“Of course, I do. I can’t believe I haven’t done it yet,” she replied breezily. “Let’s see. I still can’t feel your love-thread—and I still don’t get why, it must be some kind of glitch—but I do feel a lot of love-threads attached to you. So many girls like you, and I’m sure you know some of them.” 

“Enough, already.” 

“There’s May-Anne, Lisa, Chenelyn from next door, Rowena, Lalaine and Gail from II-Jade, several freshmen but you probably don’t know them, and—oh, and Natalie, our very own class president. You can’t tell just by looking at her, but she’s secretly liked you for—”