Parting Gift
The following contains spoilers.
The key to not hating Yui and recognizing her value to the series is, I suppose, the realization that Yui is not a real human being. She is a character in a series. No character, however intriguing and exceptional, is real. Characters are representative of traits humans have or are perceived to have. It seems that all too often the degree to which Fushigi Yuugi fans loathe Yui is based on how they would react to her given she was designed from flesh and bone rather than ink and paint. Heed this: Yui is not real, never was real, and never will be real, barring a remarkable leap from the pages of the manga into the physical realm in which we, as humans, exist today.

Yui is not an all-around likable person within the series. She's a very flawed individual, but let us examine the root of her flaws. Prior to being dragged into the book the second time, Yui is perfect. More so than Miaka or anyone else, I might add. She's intelligent, beautiful, faithful, resilient, trusting, and kind. She looks out for Miaka as more than just a friend. They have very little in common, yet they adore one another as dearest sisters and comrades. Yui is, for all intents and purposes, a virtuous young lady.

When Miaka exists the book for the first time in the anime (second time in the manga) she is unaware that Yui has been drawn back into the mysterious Universe of the Four Gods. Their link, the school uniforms they wear, fails when Miaka removes her uniform for a short time during the evening she spends at home. She does not know this is her connection to Yui. Yui knows and assumes Miaka knows, too. This is an incorrect assumption, obviously, that will haunt them both until the end of the story.

Once the tie is broken, Yui is caught and molested by a group of men. She faints and does not know that she has not been raped. The reaction by some realists that is there is no way Yui could not know she was raped because a woman will, without fail, feel on and in her body the signs of violation. But seriously, did the author take this into consideration? I doubt it. Yui isn't just being a closeminded dolt here. She sincerely believes she has been raped and there is no reason for her to think otherwise. Nakago assures her she has been raped over and over for three months. All she hears during this time is how she's been abandoned by her so-called friend, how Nakago is the only one she can depend on, how everyone else is against her. Yui's life revolves around Nakago and the web of lies he spins. Yui does not accept all that Nakago says, firmly believing that Miaka could not possibly forget about her. And in three months' time, Miaka reemerges, to Yui's elation.

What happens next demonstrates far more than Yui's imperfections. It also demonstrates her sheer, raw, unapologetic humanity. No, a character from a story cannot be human, but they can come eerily close. Yui does this in that instant where she is stricken with horror at the thought that she has been replaced and is no longer important to Miaka. Consider this: you have, for three months, been told by someone who saved you that he is the only one who cares about you and that all others have left you behind; you believe that mankind has proven to you that it is a wholly fallible and violent species; you are so destitute that you believe even slitting your wrist is an improvement over living a life that brings you nothing but misery; you are Yui Hongou, and you are very fucked up. Yui was always there for Miaka, so why wasn't Miaka always there for Yui? Miaka has as logical reason for not coming to Yui's rescue when Yui was attacked, but Yui doesn't know this. All she knows is that Miaka is standing before Tamahome, they are proclaiming their love for one another, and there is suddenly no room left for her in the relationship. Suddenly, just being unhappy isn't enough for Yui -- she wants to do something about it.

As Yui sees it, her best friend has turned on her for the love of a man she hardly knows. Because Yui's connection to Miaka was so powerful while she was reading the book, one could argue that some of Miaka's affection for Tamahome was imprinted on Yui, leaving her jealous of not just one person, but of two. She has nothing, Miaka has everything. As Yui says, things come very easy for Miaka. Love, friendship, protection... She can always fall back on someone. Yui can't. Yui knows hardship, Miaka does not. Yui has spent a quarter of a year in a dreadful, frightening world she knows not understand and which has defiled her. Miaka was safe and sound in Tamahome's arms moments before Yui was being ravaged by inhabitants of this world. Life isn't fair, and sometimes we get tired of justice failing us.

Yui becomes the antagonist. She wants Miaka to feel pain of the variety she's known. She leads Miaka to the shrine of Seiryuu and besieges her with the helplessness and agony that she herself has endured. Best friends, torn apart by fate. Yui, once the loving and nurturing friend, becomes the tormented foe who would dearly like to see Miaka meet face to face with anguish. And why not? As far as Yui knows, Miaka has forsaken everything their friendship was meant to be. She let her get raped, ditched her for a guy she'd not known very long, had the gall to come back acting like her buddy... Yui's mad, and she has a right to be mad based on what she's knows. Or what she has taught herself to know. You see, one of the many intricacies of human beings is that they will believe what they want to believe, regardless of the facts. Yui believes she has been raped because she wants to fuel her rage and bitterness so that she can act of them. She needs someone to beg her for mercy; she want someone to crumple under her wrath. Most of all, she wants the person who has hurt her most, wittingly or not, to know what it's like to her.

Looking at the world through Yui's eyes is much harder than looking at the world through Miaka's eyes. Miaka is a simple character in form and function. She's the protagonist whose most apparent major conflict is which guy she'll be taking to the prom. Yui has real problems, and they don't end with Nakago's manipulation. Let's check out the Shichiseishi, shall we?

The Suzaku Shichiseishi are amiable, care deeply for Miaka, and four of them profess love for her. All of them act as though the sun rises and sets on Miaka's shining personality and pretty face and will do anything to preserve Miaka's relationship with Tamahome, even if it means their own deaths.

The Seiryuu Shichiseishi redefine psychoses. Nakago is a manipulative monster who desires to be a god; Suboshi is riddled with vengeful lusts and an inability to interact on a normal social level; Amiboshi is a deserter who tries to join the opposing side; Soi is jealous of Yui; Tomo is weird; Ashitare nauseates and scares Yui; and Miboshi is a creepy little troll. The closest to a friend that Yui has during her stay in Kutou and abroad is Suboshi, and he's an obsessive-compulsive boy if ever there was one. Yui places her faith in Nakago, who shames Satan with his lies and Lucifer with his deceit. Yeah, Yui's gonna be a little tweaky after awhile.

Consider also that Seiryuu is the God of War, whereas Suzaku, the gender-bending peacock, represents harmony and love. Both girls are influenced by their respective gods. Does it then not make sense that Yui would be more likely to react with hostility to a situation than Miaka would? The Suzaku Shichiseishi and their Miko are goody-goodies to the end, written to be extreme opposites of the Seiryuu Shichiseishi and their Miko. Without Yui acting as she did, the story loses its sense of balance and symmetry. It also becomes really frigging dull.

But with all this in mind, an observant individual will note that Yui clearly does not enjoy being who she is and doing what she does and being who she is. She tells Suboshi that she is afraid of what she might do given the power to summon Seiryuu. She also tells Miaka that it's too late to make ammends and go back to normalcy. She further tells Nakago that she doesn't want things to be the way they are. What Yui wants, if you'll pardon the sappiness, is to be loved. And to screw over everyone who doesn't love her. And even some people who do. That's what mental breakdowns do to us, you know.

Okay, laugh. But look back at Yui's rise and fall as Seiryuu No Miko. She enters the book relying on Miaka to appear. She knows that Miaka will come back for her. But even so, depression sets in. Depression is among the worst things that can happen to someone. When you are depressed, you are worthless. Nothing you say or do has any value. You do not like yourself, you do not like others, you lose interest in life. Yui hates life, so she slits her wrist. Think about the scar. That will be with her forever, a reminder that she once tried to kill herself because her hope had dwindled so drastically. Yui Hongou, who once had so much, now has nothing. She tries to conquer what Miaka has in the hopes that this will make up for her own losses, but this doesn't work; leaves her empty. There is no way to fake love, and Tamahome simply does not love her, nor does she love him. She wants to love him, and she wants him to love her, but it won't happen. It can't. It isn't right. Everything is wrong, and death is the only open door.

Yui does not get to die. That's too easy. She is forced to sit back and watch as one action after another destroys her bit by bit. Her treatment of Suboshi when he first appears is a signal of Yui's decline. She calls him "that BOY." Yui from the beginning chapters would never have ridiculed Suboshi like this, but Yui from the middle and later chapters would. She doesn't care anymore. It doesn't matter to Yui if she hurts Suboshi because she's been hurt herself. An eye for an eye. Everyone is to blame by now. Suboshi is the one person whose love for Yui was unwavering and untainted, but he is also the sign that Yui is headed swiftly downhill. When he kisses her, she accuses him of being like "those men," and even after hearing him speak of vengeance she does not try to stop him from doing something self-destructive. Yui commands him in the end not to kill Miaka, knowing full well how strongly Suboshi feels about vengeance but passively taking no responsibility for what ensues. Yui watches as Suboshi, her dedicated servant, chases Miaka with every intention of killing her.

Then Suboshi dies.

At this point Yui seems to lose her assuredness. If she was wavering on the concepts of right and wrong before, now she's utterly without a link to the real world. Or, rather, the real world has dealt her an all new and cruel blow. Someone who loved her has died as a result of her actions. When Yui hears of Suboshi's fate, she looks like she's been struck in the stomach. She shakes, a look of horror passes over her face. It's the first time she's had to deal with the consequences of her actions without at least the smug knowledge that she's getting her way, right or wrong. Miaka gives back the bow Yui had given to Suboshi as a token of gratitude and regard. He died clutching it, uttering her name. Yui knows this. It kills her inside. Doubts pour in. She's a stubborn girl, though. She might be able to admit she was wrong, but she won't admit that Miaka was right. She runs to Nakago, and he turns on her. Symbolically, Yui is being consumed by Seiryuu, who stands for her rage and vengeance. If she calls upon this avatar of destruction one more time, she'll certainly be swallowed by him. She has to call Seiryuu -- everyone and everything depends on it. So she whispers a childlike "Bye-bye" to Miaka and wishes that Miaka, who stands for righteousness and goodness, can prevail through Suzaku.

Miaka brings Yui back in a show of that sort of forgiveness which can only exist in shoujo manga. They have a brief conversation in which Yui says she deserves to be scolded and Miaka jokingly promises that she'll give Yui a firm talking-to when the battle is finished. Yui now makes a literal descent, but in a figurative sense it is a spiritual ascent. She has admitted she is wrong. She's sorry, genuinely. Being sincerely sorry and repenting is harder than it sounds. Yui said once it was too late to turn back, and at the time she felt in every way that she was right. Hindsight is 20/20.

If one character has a moral accompanying her through the journey, it's Yui. Not Miaka, not Amiboshi, not Nuriko. Yui. Yui is the character who changes most during the span of Fushigi Yuugi. Her development may not make her likable, but it surely makes her interesting. Engaging, thought-provoking, and so much more. Underappreciated is another word that comes to mind when thinking of Yui. It's so easy to call her names and hate her, but with some effort it is possible to understand and pity Yui as a representation of a corrupted girl who eventually admits that she was wrong and does her best to make up for it, even if it means sacrificing her life for someone she once claimed to hate.

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