Maria-sama ga Miteru Volume 8 Chapter 4

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- An American?

 

 

 

 

It was probably the j.a.panese national anthem that resurrected those words.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Noticing the students near her were standing, Sei raised her head. She glanced at the program.

 

 

 

 

(National anthem?)

 

 

 

 

So that meant that the opening address and scripture reading were already over? She'd dozed off, so hadn't noticed.

 

 

 

 

(Now then.)

 

 

 

 

She followed everyone else's lead and stood up, ready to sing the anthem. While listening carefully for the short prelude, Sei thought back to the unbelievable first words that her friend had said to her, back when they were kids.

 

 

 

 

Suddenly grabbing her shoulder and asking, "Are you an American?" Then it had turned into a fight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eriko the kindergartener didn't have her trademark hairband, but her parted hair left her forehead wide open, so the effect was much the same. Nor was she a shy girl back then either.

 

 

 

 

Children with older brothers or sisters tend to mature faster than others, and that certainly seemed to be the case for Eriko, who was doted on by her older brothers.

 

 

 

 

Sei was in a different cla.s.s to her, but occasionally saw Eriko leading her friends in games when they played out in the garden. Back then she probably hadn't lived long enough to "lose interest" or "get bored" with things. She led with gusto.

 

 

 

 

In contrast, Sei wasn't all that energetic. Human nature doesn't change that easily.

 

 

 

 

Shyness was something Sei had been born with. When she was suddenly tossed into kindergarten, she responded with bewilderment.

 

 

 

 

Even though they were young children, there was still a wide range of personalities. With her personality, she found it hard to innocently play together with friends.

 

 

 

 

But that wasn't to say that Sei didn't have any friends or avoided people. She just felt more comfortable when she was alone, so she didn't go out of her way to join in with her cla.s.smates, that's all.

 

 

 

 

Sports and painting were easy, as were the lessons about the hiragana alphabet and simple maths, but pacing herself to someone else was hard. She was something of a highly-strung child, and sometimes the teacher's presence alone was enough to make her feel down.

 

 

 

 

Then one day, while she was waiting for the bus home, someone suddenly grabbed her shoulder from behind. It was Eriko.

 

 

 

 

Sei already knew her as the king of the mountain called "Eri-chan." But she had no idea what this girl wanted from her.

 

 

 

 

Without any introduction, Eriko said:

 

 

 

 

"Are you an American?"

 

 

 

 

Click.

 

 

 

 

Sei felt like some switch had been flipped inside her head.

 

 

 

 

As young children they were both equally ignorant of proper manners, but there were definitely good things to say and bad things to say. Looking back on it now, some ten years later, it was hard to know why exactly, but at that time Eriko's words had definitely fallen into the "bad" category.

 

 

 

 

Finely-chiseled features and light colored hair. Sometimes adults she didn't know would ask about her parents' nationality.

 

 

 

 

She could laugh about it now, but back then it had been a very sensitive question.

 

 

 

 

It was rude to ask, "Are you an American?" to a child who considered themselves j.a.panese. Not being conscious of discrimination, it felt like a denial of self.

 

 

 

 

Asking, how is your appearance different to my appearance?

 

 

 

 

And, have my parents failed as j.a.panese people in some way?

 

 

 

 

And, no big deal, but maybe you're not their child. These were all things she seriously pondered.

 

 

 

 

(Is that an American?)

 

 

 

 

Her anger flared. Quiet does not equal timid. While she didn't usually talk much, that didn't mean she didn't have any feelings.

 

 

 

 

"I get it, you're a half."

 

 

 

 

Probably completely convinced she was right, Eriko managed to avoid hearing Sei's, "No I'm not."

 

 

 

 

"Hey, is your papa an American? Or is your mama an American?"

 

 

 

 

"Is America the only country name you know?"

 

 

 

 

Sei didn't answer with either a "Yes" or a "No," instead verbally lashing out at Eriko before turning her back on her.

 

 

 

 

In reality, it was admirable for children that young to even be able to say words like American, but that wasn't something she could appreciate. The truth of the matter was that, at that age, they were both equally ignorant. It wasn't until elementary school that she learned that Africa and London weren't countries.

 

 

 

 

"If it's not America then which country is it?"

 

 

 

 

Despite Sei's attempt to shake her loose, Eriko stubbornly followed her. Even though her pride had probably been wounded by having her lack of education pointed out, this was overpowered by her curiosity, spurring her into action.

 

 

 

 

"Stop following me."

 

 

 

 

"Running away? Half."

 

 

 

 

"Get away from me, big head."

 

 

 

 

"What did you call me - "

 

 

 

 

She couldn't remember who had made the first move. But, immediately following the conversation, there was no mistaking that Sei and Eriko got into a spectacular scuffle. The pair were pulled apart by a teacher and Eriko's mother, who had arrived to pick her up, but even then continued to menace each other, all while covered in dirt.

 

 

 

 

They were both escorted to the nurse's office to get their cuts and sc.r.a.pes tended to, but a part.i.tion was put up between them due to the explosive atmosphere.

 

 

 

 

The antiseptic lotion used on the cuts stung quite a lot, but Sei didn't cry. She thought that if she showed any weakness to Eriko on the other side of the part.i.tion, she would have lost.

 

 

 

 

The teacher asked both of them about it, but neither said anything about the cause of the fight. Even if they told her, as an adult she might not understand. They both knew full well what the other had said to hurt their feelings.

 

 

 

 

"Now shake hands and make up."

 

 

 

 

She understood the teacher's position, but even as a child, Sei couldn't accept a resolution so easily. Would shaking hands make their feelings disappear? No, it wouldn't. Because it was pride that drove them to fight.

 

 

 

 

"Come on Sei-chan. You too, Eriko-chan."

 

 

 

 

Sei didn't hate the teacher, but she thought that that was the event that spurred her to build a wall around her. She coldly regarded the teacher, who was, after all, an adult. Even though Eriko was her enemy, they still had more in common since they were both children.

 

 

 

 

So even though the situation hadn't been resolved, they reluctantly reached out and shook hands, barely touching each other.

 

 

 

 

In the end, it looked like they were on the same level. They only shook hands to appease the adult, and the truth was that they hadn't forgiven each other at all.

 

 

 

 

Neither of them knew the technique of a smiling reconciliation, to avoid drawing the feud out into the future. But even if they had, they certainly wouldn't have used it.

 

 

 

 

That single incident seemed to be the start of Sei being regarded as a problem child, rather than an unremarkable one. That didn't mean she acted out violently, but she stopped talking to both her cla.s.smates and teachers. From time to time she'd pa.s.s Eriko in the hallway, and they'd stick their tongues out at each other, but it never escalated to violence.

 

 

 

 

Even though that was their only connection, Eriko had still made more of an impression on Sei than anyone else in her cla.s.s. Consequently, Eriko's was the only face that she could remember from kindergarten. So all through elementary school and middle school, even when Sei was in the same cla.s.s as girls from her kindergarten cla.s.s, she couldn't recognize them. On the other hand, when she did finally get put in the same cla.s.s as Eriko, she remembered everything.

 

 

 

 

Upon entering middle school, Sei saw that she'd been put in the same cla.s.s as Eriko for the first time. They'd long since stopped poking their tongues out at each other, but they both must have looked appalled when they realized they were sitting next to each other, with only an aisle between them.

 

 

 

 

- This sucks.

 

 

 

 

She remembered that they'd both muttered that simultaneously.

 

 

 

 

Neither of them had been in a fight either before or after, they'd only ever fought with one person. And that person was right there in front of them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Sei-san."

 

 

 

 

n.o.buko-san, seated on Sei's left, tapped her on the shoulder. Sei looked around, seeing that Katsumi-san, on her right, wasn't there. There was no need to search for her, all of the seats ahead of her were empty, their occupants on their way to receive their graduation certificates. They were supposed to go and wait at the bottom of the stage five students in advance, so that the ceremony flowed smoothly.

 

 

 

 

"You were sleeping with your eyes open?"

 

 

 

 

"I wasn't sleeping."

 

 

 

 

She stood up and shook her head.

 

 

 

 

"Get it together."

 

 

 

 

"Yep, my bad, like always."

 

 

 

 

"What can I do? We're both Satou-sans."

 

 

 

 

Sharing the same surname, but with a first name appearing later in the alphabet, n.o.buko-san had long since resigned herself to this sort of thing.

 

 

 

 

Thinking back, n.o.buko-san had been looking out for her all year long. Before Sei had taken Shimako-san as her pet.i.t soeur, she'd occasionally asked n.o.buko-san to help out the Yamayurikai when they were shorthanded. It was undoubtedly a bother to n.o.buko-san, but since Sei didn't have any close friends in her cla.s.s, all she could do was impose on those seated close to her.

 

 

 

 

"Sei-san, your eyes look gentler than in the past."

 

 

 

 

n.o.boku-san said softly from behind, after another student had received her diploma.

 

 

 

 

"The past?"

 

 

 

 

"Like kindergarten, or elementary-school, or middle-school &h.e.l.lip; huh?"

 

 

 

 

n.o.buko-san's expression changed in a flash, and she looked at Sei as though she were seeing something inconceivable.

 

 

 

 

"I can't believe it, you don't remember me."

 

 

 

 

When Sei got home she checked her alb.u.ms, establishing that she and n.o.buko-san had been in the same cla.s.s one third of the time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Satou Sei.

 

 

 

 

The wisteria cla.s.s homeroom teacher called out the name. Her dear friend named Satou Sei walked onstage, bowed and received her graduation certificate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

- Satou-san.

 

 

 

 

Youko remembered their first exchange, and those were the first words she said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Satou-san, wait up."

 

 

 

 

It wasn't long after entering into Lillian's middle-school that, for some reason or other, Youko had called out to Sei. From memory, it was when they were supposed to be going in groups to check out the various clubs, and Sei had wandered off on her own - or something like that.

 

 

 

 

Sei had turned around and looked coldly at Youko. Unlike now, Sei's gaze used to be quite cutting. She had a difficult atmosphere up close, but she wasn't particularly scary.

 

 

 

 

"You're in the same group as us, Satou-san, so why don't we all stick together?"

 

 

 

 

Hearing Youko's words, Sei's face had suddenly changed to a smiling one. In truth, Youko had been astonished. It was the first time she had ever seen her cold cla.s.smate smile.

 

 

 

 

"The entrance exam group?"

 

 

 

 

Sei muttered, her lips more sarcastic than jovial.

 

 

 

 

"What do you mean? I said that during the self-introduction, right?"

 

 

 

 

Youko said, a bit sullenly, feeling like she was being taken for a fool.

 

 

 

 

Those who had come through from Lillian's elementary-school, and those who had taken the entrance exam to get in. They didn't have to split along those lines, but since they'd just entered into middle-school, their groups tended to be of people in similar circ.u.mstances.

 

 

 

 

"Sorry. I must have missed that part."

 

 

 

 

Rather than missing that part, she hadn't been listening at all. Sei had been gazing out the window all through her cla.s.smates' self-introductions. When her turn came around, she'd stood up, said her name and attendance number, then sat back down, displaying no social graces whatsoever.

 

 

 

 

But it was probably that which had made Youko interested in Sei. If she'd said everything, then the desire to know more about her would never have been born.

 

 

 

 

"And? Does that have anything to do with whether or not we can go and inspect the clubs together?"

 

 

 

 

Youko felt her tone of voice steadily growing stronger. She'd definitely been annoyed by Sei's att.i.tude. But, more than that, excited. Talking with Sei was, in some respects, stimulating. Although they were the same age, she couldn't predict what Sei was going to say next.

 

 

 

 

"Not really."

 

 

 

 

Sei said, relaxing her expression slightly.

 

 

 

 

"It's been a long time since anyone in the same grade has called me Satou-san. It's a fresh feeling, Youko-san."

 

 

 

 

Youko-san. That had been p.r.o.nounced quite clearly.

 

 

 

 

This was the first time that Youko had been made aware of it. That, at Lillian's, it was typical to call people by their first name.

 

 

 

 

Sure, the cla.s.sroom had been filled with a chorus of first names. But she'd put that down to old friends becoming new cla.s.smates, or gatherings of overly familiar students.

 

 

 

 

It was four days after the entrance ceremony. There were so many things that were natural to those who had come up through Lillian's elementary-school, so no-one explained each and every little thing. Youko had read the student notebook from cover to cover but it hadn't touched on this topic.

 

 

 

 

"Thank-you for teaching me this, Sei-san."

 

 

 

 

"Not at all. My pleasure."

 

 

 

 

After exchanging forced smiles, Youko's group went around to check out the club activities, as though nothing had happened. Sei silently followed them, staying at the back.

 

 

 

 

Youko felt relieved.

 

 

 

 

Back when she'd gone to a public elementary school, there had always been one rebellious boy in any group - but Sei didn't seem to be that type of person. As she observed Sei, Youko gradually came to understand that the reason she didn't listen to what other people were saying, and slipped out of group activities, was simply because she found them tiresome.

 

 

 

 

"Sei-san, are you going to join a sports club? Or a cultural club?"

 

 

 

 

In Youko's eyes, Sei had become an incredibly interesting person. So she asked her about various things. The girls who had been in a cla.s.s with Sei during elementary school probably thought Youko was acting unconcerned about the scary stories about her, but that was of no concern.

 

 

 

 

"Cultural club."

 

 

 

 

Sei responded lethargically when spoken to directly. Or she'd ignore the question, or, very rarely, answer energetically.

 

 

 

 

"But you look like you'd be good at athletics."

 

 

 

 

"I don't care, I just want a club that's as easy as possible."

 

 

 

 

In middle-school, one hour per week was set aside for all students to partic.i.p.ate in compulsory school club activities. So they had to join a club, even if they didn't want to. In the end, Sei chose the reading club, and was able to productively spend her club time engrossed in her own private world.

 

 

 

 

As expected, Sei completely ignored all after-school club activities. Despite this, due to her athletic ability, she was often asked to join sports clubs, like the softball club and the volleyball club. Youko wanted to tell the girls that came around to scout her that Sei wouldn't partic.i.p.ate in organized compet.i.tion, but she held her tongue.

 

 

 

 

(Because, that would be needless meddling.)

 

 

 

 

But despite being cautious about this, she was still called a "meddler" and a "busybody." Mainly by Sei.

 

 

 

 

She interjected whenever something bothered her, which had led to countless arguments so far.

 

 

 

 

Youko, being who she was, knew the truth. If she'd just stayed silent, she and Sei could have lived out their school lives in peace and harmony.

 

 

 

 

But if people could change their personality that easily, no-one would ever suffer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Torii Eriko."

 

 

 

 

Hearing that very familiar name, she was suddenly brought back to reality.

 

 

 

 

Youko looked up, just in time to see Eriko receive her diploma.

 

 

 

 

Time had flown past while she'd been deep in thought. They were already half way through chrysanthemum cla.s.s. The speed was especially impressive considering the diplomas were being presented to everyone in the cla.s.s, and not just a few representatives.

 

 

 

 

(Eriko &h.e.l.lip; what was it?)

 

 

 

 

Youko furrowed her brow, trying to reel in the memory. Then she remembered. In first-year, Eriko joined the Go club, in second-year the calligraphy club, and in third-year the table tennis club - changing clubs each year of middle-school. The reason was obvious.

 

 

 

 

The story goes that she'd lose interest whenever she found someone who was better than her. Incidentally, the reason for her losing interest in the calligraphy club was none other than Youko's pet.i.t soeur, Ogasawara Sachiko. She'd heard this from Eriko herself, so there was no doubting its veracity.

 

 

 

 

At their first club meeting, the calligraphy teacher / faculty advisor had asked the students to write some calligraphy of their own choosing, in order to a.s.sess their skills. Eriko lost all interest the moment she saw Sachiko's completed work. Her work was of such a high standard that there was no point comparing it to anyone else's.

 

 

 

 

Given that level of skill existed, having a discerning eye was unfortunate. For Eriko, one year of boredom was a long time indeed.

 

 

 

 

There was no way she could compete with Sachiko, who had been studying calligraphy since a young age. But being forced to settle for second place, when she was accustomed to effortlessly reaching the top, must have had a huge impact on her ident.i.ty.

 

 

 

 

The prototype for the current Eriko had probably emerged during that time. Unknown students from other schools had arrived at the start of middle-school. Like the place where streams converge, the waters were muddied and the current grew tempestuous.

 

 

 

 

(Good grief.)

 

 

 

 

Youko stood from her folding chair. While she'd been replaying those memories, the camellia cla.s.s's turn to receive their diplomas had arrived.

 

 

 

 

"Mizuno Youko."

 

 

 

 

"Yes."

 

 

 

 

Responding to her homeroom teacher's announcement, she took the stage, turned and bowed to the princ.i.p.al. Then she took a step forward and waited.

 

 

 

 

"Mizuno Youko, as announced."

 

 

 

 

The princ.i.p.al said softly, presenting the certificate. Youko reached out first with her left, then with her right hand, accepting the diploma, then bowed once more and turned away - and then the next student's name was called.

 

 

 

 

Too quick. That was the impression she had.

 

 

 

 

Upon descending from the stage, the certificate was temporarily collected again. Their homeroom teacher had explained this, and said to silently accept the offered certificate even if it had the wrong name written on it, but the certificate she'd received did indeed bear the name "Mizuno Youko."

 

 

 

 

(Youko-san, huh.)

 

 

 

 

Thinking back on it now, it was a miracle that Sei had been able to remember her name when they'd gone to inspect the clubs. It had been something of an everyday occurrence for Sei to forget not only people's names, but also their faces. Given that Youko was able to match faces and names for all her cla.s.smates within three days of the entrance ceremony, she couldn't help but marvel at how Sei lived her school life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Recently, that had become a topic of conversation between the two of them.

 

 

 

 

"Say, Youko. You said the character 'you' was from 'fuyou.' Back in your self-introduction."

 

 

 

 

Sei asked.

 

 

 

 

"The 'you' from 'fuyou?' Ah, the character (蓉) from cotton rose (芙蓉)."

 

 

 

 

That was Youko's typical answer when asked about the characters used in her name.

 

 

 

 

"At the time, the first thing that came to mind was the character (養) from dependents (扶養家族)."

 

 

 

 

"Dependents?"

 

 

 

 

That was completely wrong. But at least she hadn't immediately thought of the words useless (不用) and floating (浮揚), which were also p.r.o.nounced as "fuyou."

 

 

 

 

"Well, you can have a dependent child, which is the character (養) from dependents, plus the character for child (子) - which can be p.r.o.nounced as 'ko'. So I thought that you were saying your name was written with those two characters (養子). "

 

 

 

 

Sei squinted, sun streaming through the window she was leaning next to, on the second-floor of the Rose Mansion. Trying to use the sun's rays to thaw out.

 

 

 

 

"Even though it was completely wrong."

 

 

 

 

"That's why I only paid attention to your intro."

 

 

 

 

"Hmm."

 

 

 

 

Was she telling the truth or not? Youko shrugged, choosing to believe what Sei said.

 

 

 

 

"From now on, I'll make sure I say it's the flower."

 

 

 

 

"You could just say it's the 'you' from subject (内容) with the gra.s.s radical."

 

 

 

 

Sei probably didn't understand the desire to convey as pretty an image as possible. Or perhaps she was embarra.s.sed to use examples to adorn her name.

 

 

 

 

"Sei's a good name. There's Sei (聖) in Saint Maria (聖マリア), Sei in Christmas Eve (聖夜), Sei in hymn (聖歌) Sei in saint (聖人) - "

 

 

 

 

"Quit it. Ear (耳), mouth (口), king (王) is more than good enough."

 

 

 

 

And that, Youko thought, was because of what she didn't want to convey.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On her way back to her seat, after handing over her graduation certificate, Youko snuck a glance at the third-year wisteria cla.s.s seating area. Seeing Sei obviously zoned out with a faraway look on her face was a let down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Youko accepted her diploma and stepped down from the stage.

 

 

 

 

Eriko looked at the program of events - since camellia cla.s.s was the last cla.s.s, and they were already up to "Mi", the distribution of certificates would soon end.

 

 

 

 

Next up was the princ.i.p.al's formal address, followed by the dean and guest speaker's congratulatory addresses. It was enough to make anyone sleepy, not just Sei.

 

 

 

 

Despite her boredom, Eriko didn't turn around to look for the bear-man. Doing so would put her on the same level as an elementary school child on parents day.

 

 

 

 

She wondered if she should rest her eyes for just a little while. Because, unfortunately, she'd probably have to open them again for the farewell address and formal reply.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Freshman representative, first-year peach cla.s.s, Mizuno Youko."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first time Eriko heard Youko's name was at the middle-school entrance ceremony.

 

 

 

 

Well, the words "Mizuno Youko" would have been neatly printed on the cla.s.s list when it was published, but it wasn't an interesting enough name for a stranger to have that Eriko's eyes would have stopped to look at it, let alone remember it.

 

 

 

 

They had a.s.sembled in their cla.s.sroom prior to the entrance ceremony, but since they'd been told beforehand to sit in alphabetical order, this put the "To" of Torii and the "Mi" of Mizuno in the same column, but one at the front and the other at the back. Anyhow, once she'd spotted Sei sitting across the aisle from her, Eriko hadn't had the composure to survey her surroundings. She'd got into a brawl with her back in kindergarten. After that, they'd snarl at each other whenever they met in the hallway, so-called mortal enemies.

 

 

 

 

Mizuno Youko.

 

 

 

 

Therefore it was a name completely unknown to Eriko when the vice-princ.i.p.al called it out at the entrance ceremony.

 

 

 

 

Youko stood up from where she was seated as part of Eriko's cla.s.s and walked to the front. That was probably the first time Eriko saw her face, too. At the very least, it wasn't a face she'd seen at Lillian's elementary school. Her straight, jet black hair was cut, straight, at the nape of her neck, giving her the look of a beautiful young woman.

 

 

 

 

Her speech was magnificent too. Her words were unhurried and easily understood, and while her voice did seem to tremble slightly, the nervousness came across as innocence.

 

 

 

 

(Hmm.)

 

 

 

 

For some reason, it looked as though she'd been blessed by the heavens with a number of gifts. At the time, Eriko was experiencing a mild case of shock.

 

 

 

 

It wasn't as though she'd wanted to give the address. But she did feel a bit uneasy about being in the same cla.s.s as Youko.

 

 

 

 

The freshman representative was decided based on grades. Therefore, it was clear that this "Mizuno Youko," who had joined the middle-school by taking the entrance exams from outside, had received top marks. Even the students coming from elementary school took the same entrance exam, purely for form's sake. Eriko did pretty well, even by her own standards. But apparently Youko must have done even better.

 

 

 

 

It was probably to be expected when comparing herself to someone who had studied for the exam, but even so, Eriko had always been able to succeed without trying. If she'd have to work hard to cling to her status as an honor student, then that felt like a complete denial of her current self, and that was no good. Eriko wasn't particularly interested in things that could only be achieved by studying.

 

 

 

 

Therefore, she swiftly decided to withdraw from the compet.i.tion.

 

 

 

 

There was no need for two honor students in the cla.s.s. That position was ceded to Youko. Eriko wasn't being a poor loser, she'd steadily lost interest in taking a leadership position.

 

 

 

 

But when it came time to select the cla.s.s representative, Eriko's plan came undone. Despite not being a candidate, when "Mizuno Youko" was elected, Youko herself nominated Eriko as another cla.s.s representative, basically a partner. The plausible seeming reason she gave was that after just three days she wasn't all that accustomed to Lillian's. But that was undoubtedly an act of retribution against Eriko.

 

 

 

 

Basically, for the entire year, Eriko was tied to the person she wanted to keep as far away from as possible.

 

 

 

 

"If you'd please, Torii-san."

 

 

 

 

Even to this day, she couldn't forget Youko's triumphant grin. As petty revenge, Eriko made up her mind not to tell Youko that the standard manner of addressing someone at Lillian's was first-name plus "-san."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Although she corrected that pretty quickly.)

 

 

 

 

As she listened to the princ.i.p.al's address, Eriko fiddled with her tie out of boredom.

 

 

 

 

Youko had an incredible capacity to learn.

 

 

 

 

- Your ribbon has such a pretty shape, Eriko-san.

 

 

 

 

She could still remember it. The day she realized she was no match for Youko.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Your ribbon has such a pretty shape, Eriko-san."

 

 

 

 

Youko said smoothly. From memory it was after gym cla.s.s had finished, just when they'd returned to the cla.s.sroom.

 

 

 

 

"Ah, now that you mention it."

 

 

 

 

Some other cla.s.smates looked at Eriko's chest and nodded.

 

 

 

 

"Really?"

 

 

 

 

Youko was quite skilled at giving compliments. Knowing her, she could easily discern someone's strengths and weaknesses, but she only called attention to their good points. Because she was so accurate, it didn't feel like flattery. It was probably because she'd been brought up receiving compliments that she spontaneously complimented other people.

 

 

 

 

"Is there a secret to it?"

 

 

 

 

Youko focused in on Eriko's ribbon, gently touching it.

 

 

 

 

"A secret?"

 

 

 

 

It wasn't something she was conscious of, so there couldn't be any secret. But looking at Youko's ribbon, it didn't have a particularly bad shape.

 

 

 

 

"Actually, I noticed it a while back. I tried watching you tie it today in the locker room, but it was bam-bam-bam done."

 

 

 

 

Youko asked Eriko to teach her how she tied her ribbon. But everyday she tied it without paying conscious attention, so she wouldn't be able to teach that. When Eriko said this, Youko asked if she could watch while Eriko tied it a couple of times.

 

 

 

 

Youko was, fundamentally, a diligent person. After watching Eriko untie and retie her ribbon five times, she'd mostly taken the technique on board. She was able to tie her own ribbon in a way that looked quite close to Eriko's.

 

 

 

 

"But I can't do it as well as you, Eriko-san."

 

 

 

 

Youko seemed satisfied as she said this, and turned her attention to something else. Eriko wasn't particularly interested in what had caught Youko's attention, but she was incredibly fascinated by Youko the person.

 

 

 

 

Like the way she didn't hide her efforts, or the way she was satisfied with the results after she'd done all she could - these were things that were unimaginable to Eriko, but Youko did them so naturally. Add to that the way she was always cheerful, never troubled.

 

 

 

 

Eriko realized that the ability to work hard was a talent too. For someone who didn't know what they wanted to do, but desperately wanted to find something where they wouldn't be beaten by anyone, the wide and shallow, unflagging acc.u.mulation of labor, and futile concentration of effort could only be thought of as painful.

 

 

 

 

But even so, Youko had gone out of her way to compliment her. Eriko thought she should be on guard to ensure that, at least in ribbon shape, she was never surpa.s.sed by Youko. It wouldn't take any time. All she had to do was tie it like she had up until now.

 

 

 

 

Squeak.

 

 

 

 

At the end, when she was satisfied and pulled the ends tight, her mood tensed.

 

 

 

 

She'd tied her ribbon this morning too.

 

 

 

 

Today was the final time she'd wear her school uniform.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Everyone please be upstanding."

 

 

 

 

At the MC's command, everyone in the auditorium stood up. After the congratulatory address came the singing of a hymn. From the parents seating area, the sound of rustling paper was mixed in with the sounds of people standing up. They'd been given copies of the hymn's lyrics and score when they entered.

 

 

 

 

Eriko pretended to smooth the pleats of her skirt and snuck a glance at the seats behind her. But the bulk of students already standing formed a barrier between her and the guest's seat she was interested in, so she couldn't tell what the situation was back there.

 

 

 

 

The sound of the music teacher playing the prelude on the piano rang out.

 

 

 

 

Had Yaman.o.be-san arrived?

 

 

 

 

Somewhere in the auditorium, was he singing along too?