Maria-sama ga Miteru:Volume17 Chapter2

Happenings and Heading Out

Part 1

The official name of Narita Airport is New Tokyo International Airport. It was after 10 a.m. on the Departures floor of International Terminal One.

A few girls in dark school uniforms had crowded together; red passports in hand and big bags at their feet. Their greetings of "Gokigenyou" included bit of nervousness.

"I wonder why we had to assemble more than two hours early?" Yoshino-san grumbled, walking towards the green flag in the class committee member's hand.

"It's because this is an overseas flight," Yumi replied.

"That's not why. These days, international phone calls are easily made, information from around the world is instantly at your fingertips thanks to the internet, and we can watch live broadcasts via satellite from the other side of the globe. The barriers between countries are growing noticeably smaller, and incredibly closer. After all, don't people going somewhere in Asia get there much faster than going to some remote place in Japan?"

"Hmm."

"For travelers, don't you think the distinction between international and domestic travel is steadily disappearing?" Yoshino-san asked, even though this was her first time leaving Japan. Yumi knew this because they'd gone to get their passports together.

"So?"

"Basically, can't they simplify it even further? We shouldn't have to arrive more than 30 minutes before the flight takes off."

". . ."

In other words, Yoshino-san wasn't trying to engage in a complicated debate, all she was trying to say was that she had to wake up earlier than expected and she was tired. But there was no one she could complain about this to, so she was distracting herself by talking about "these days" and "simplification."

Along the way, passing by the Wisteria class, they found Shimako-san among the crowd.

"Gokigenyou. Did you two come together?"

'Yes. We took an express bus from the K station to the airport."

"Oh, such a thing exists?"

"Yes, though it takes a while. Onee-sama said it would be terrible to transfer trains over and over while carrying luggage. This way, once we got on the bus, we could sleep until it brought us to the airport."

"But it looks like Yoshino-san didn't get to sleep.”

"I never would have thought that Yumi-san sleeping peacefully beside me could be so annoying."

It seems that Yoshino-san was so wound up telling herself, "I need to sleep, I need to sleep," that she could not sleep. Yoshino-san probably would have easily overcome this if she'd taken the motion sickness tablets that Yumi had received as a farewell present from Sachiko-sama, but since sleep came naturally to Yumi she hadn't thought to offer them. As for Yoshino-san, it seemed like she never got carsick so she hadn't considered taking any medication either.

"Excuse me. Please, could you three look over here?"

By reflex, they turned their faces towards "here," but were met with a flash and a click instead of a greeting.

". . . Tsutako-san."

She was generally acknowledged to be the ace of the Photography club. Takeshima Tsutako-san lowered her camera, then belatedly said "Gokigenyou" with a smile.

"'The Appearance of Rosa Gigantea, Rosa Chinensis en Bouton, and Rosa Foetida en Bouton Before They Depart.' That was pretty good timing. A blessing from Maria-sama. Who knows when I'll be lucky enough to get this sweet shot again."

While saying this, Tsutako-san clicked the shutter.

The three of them exchanged glances that said, "it can't be helped," and posed for photos. On a trip, several classes traveled together, so Wisteria class's Shimako-san and everyone in Pine class was together without restriction.

"Tsutako-san, did Mami-san put you up to this?"

The Newspaper club would not turn a blind eye towards the school field trip. Then–

"Exactly."

Yamaguchi Mami-san—current Editor-in-Chief of the Lillian Kawaraban—appeared from behind; writing implement held tightly in one hand, standing by to record news at a moment's notice. A perfect match for Tsutako-san, who never lets go of her camera. With these two as a tag-team, they become a formidable force.

"Mami-san is busy, running around even outside of school," Shimako-san said with a giggle.

"I've been back and forth from here several times by now. Truth is, I was chasing some bad info to the Information counter."

"Bad info?"

"I heard the announcer call for 'Satou Sei.'"

"Satou Sei?!"

Yumi, Yoshino-san, and Tsutako-san all replied at the same time.

"I said bad info, though, right? You're jumping the gun, it was a mistake."

"The name that was called, it was 'Katou-san,' wasn't it?" Shimako-san said with a smile.

Actually, it was a bit of a shock to hear that announcement. But with good ears, you could tell it was someone else because they said "Katou." She's still the same, composed, person. I wonder if I would have reacted that well, thought Yumi. Whether "Odazawa Sachiko-san" or "Okadawara Sachiko-san," they all sound like "Ogasawara Sachiko-san," and Yumi would dash off to whoever was calling for them.

"Even if it was 'Satou Sei,' there's a high chance that several people have that same name."

"Oh! I once met a Fukuzawa Yumi while in the hospital. She was a grandma about 80 years old,” Yoshino-san said.

"Now that you mention it, there is a first grader, Yamaguchi Mami-chan, in elementary school," Tsutako-san added.

"Any relation?"

"No, I didn't really know her. Because the elementary school was in our neighborhood, the students would walk in front of our house. If I approached those cute kids, I could see the name tag pinned to their chest."

"That's dangerous, Tsutako-san."

She may look like an ordinary high school girl (no reason for caution), but on the inside was a lecherous old man. Saying "It's fine, because she's seven or eight years too young for me," is kind of missing the point. Mami-san is Mami-san though, and having the same name as a "cute kid" put her in quite the good mood.

"But I appreciate it. Wisteria and Pine classes are in the same group. If she were taking the reverse route, Shimako-san couldn't help but go the other way."

That's right. The airplane lands in Milan first with all the second year students together. Then some make the rounds in Rome (Course A) and some in Venice (Course B). There are six classes, three per course. Both courses meet up only in the middle, in Florence.

"Thank you, teachers who drew the lottery, and Maria-sama." Mami-san and Tsutako-san pressed their hands together and lifted their faces, eyes closed. But there was only a tall ceiling.

"Tsutako-san, since when did you become the Newspaper club's cameraman?"

"No, no. I had been asked by Mami-san, but I already had a greater personal desire."

"Are you going to put this in a corner of the Photography club's panel at the school festival?"

"Yoshino-san, asking it straight out. I wonder if you couldn't have softened that just a bit."

Saying that, I wonder if Tsutako-san intends to fill an entire panel. Good grief.

Yumi's face grew distracted as she watched the retreating figure of Tsutako-san and wondered if she, Yoshino-san, and Mami-san were going to keep this sparring up for the rest of the trip.

Because I'm not sharing a room with her, I won't have to worry about her taking a photo while I'm changing clothes or taking a bath.

"Should I pray for your good luck in battle?" asked Shimako-san, as if reading Yumi's mind.

"Thank you. I think we'll meet up again soon, but I wish you a good trip too, Shimako-san."

Shrugging her shoulders, Yumi chased after the three people. It was right where the Pine class had assembled.

Part 2

Because this was her first trip abroad, Yumi was ready for trouble. But getting out of the country was easier than she thought.

"From here on out we're not in Japan anymore."

That's what a teacher announced in a loud voice. Even though my passport was stamped at the departures counter, this is still Narita Airport. It doesn't feel like that at all. For example (and not a very good example), if there were a big earthquake right now, this airport would be demolished. Of course, in this story, I would survive, and eventually be able to make it home through my own efforts.

Upon hearing Yumi's mumbling, Yoshino-san laughed.

"But that is a very Japanese-esque feeling, isn't it?"

There was still a little time until departure. Long enough for a 15 minute bathroom break, which Yumi finished right away. Quickly peeking into a store on the way back, she spotted Yoshino-san, and walked in. Book, cosmetics, drinks, souvenirs, all jumbled up side-by-side; it was hard to call this store a "store." Other than Yoshino-san, there were a few other students scattered within, and a teacher warning them, "Don't run out of money before we get to Italy."

"Japanese-esque?" Yumi asked again while chasing after Yoshino-san at the register.

"Yes. Japan is an island nation surrounded by the sea: no other nation has adjoining land. So, you don't think that there is any other country that you can just walk to?"

"Nation has adjoining land, huh. . . ."

I see.

"Take for example a French person, who lives in France, was traveling in Italy when a big earthquake hit. All transportation systems stopped. But, theoretically, they could walk home."

"Because the nation has adjoining land?"

"Exactly. For somebody born and raised in such a land, wouldn't they feel like every foreign country is eventually reachable under their own power? Or, as an extreme example, a house built on a border would have one room that crossed two countries. Things like that."

"Eh . . ."

"But thanks to our island nation, you really notice when leaving our country. I think that's a good thing."

This is not Japan anymore. But it would be completely incorrect to say this was Italy. It's not Italy any more than it is America. What is the currency of a place that is not any country?

Although Yumi's head was swimming in such thoughts, Yoshino-san pulled out some Japanese coins and bought a lip balm.

"Really? The price in yen was written on the tag. Just like in a regular store."

"No it isn't," Yoshino-san said, laughing it off. She turned and handed the receipt to Yumi, adding, "Duty-free. No sales tax."

I see. Sure enough, this must be outside of Japan.

Part 3

The overhead bins were packed solid, not unlike rush hour, because the entire second-year class of Lillian Academy were crammed into them. To save time and avoid trouble, it was decided that for the school trip, all luggage would be carry-on. When you boil it down, the amount of stuff you bring on a trip doesn't differ much between domestic and international school trips: Outside you only wear your school uniform; after that, just hotel robes and pajamas; some travel-size toiletries, and so on. In that case, you don't need a suitcase. At least, that was the school's side of things.

But these were all young girls. Their bags were crammed full of this or that, miscellaneous things. These were the kinds of people who pack right up until the last minute, decide which personal effects to take, which creams and facial cleansers, and still pull things out and put things in. They barely got the zipper closed, and now they put these bags in the overhead compartments. Bags were piled in, side by side and on top of each other. Pulling them out and putting them back in was like solving a puzzle. Finally, they got all the overhead compartments to close. Students who ended up with their luggage over their own seat were lucky. Less lucky were the ones whose luggage ended up above some neighboring classmate.

"Please watch over this for the next 13 hours or so," Tsutako-san said while tightening her seatbelt. She would be in the nearby seat until Milan.

"Tsutako-san, you really don't want the window seat?"

"Nope, I'm good. I'm more interested in the people inside than things outside the plane."

". . . Is that right?"

While they were talking, the plane started to move slowly. The scene outside the window was proof that they were rolling backward. Here and there a voice cried out "Oooh!" It wasn't because they were about to faint, it seems like it was a reaction to the airplane's movement. Despite being a school with girls typically from well-off families, there were plenty of students like Yumi, who were traveling overseas for the first time. Of course, there was no small number of folks flying for the first time.

A little bit ago, the screens in front of them had started to repeat emergency evacuation instructions and how to don their life jackets. Additionally, the flight stewardess unobtrusively demonstrated how to put on the life jacket. Just about everyone listened, with varying degrees of attention, depending on how many times they had flown before.

Hey now.

While that was going on, the plane had started moving forward. There was no departure bell like there would be on a train, so there was no way to know how long they would taxi to the runway before takeoff.

"Oh! Michiyo-san is trembling and praying!" Tsutako-san muttered while leaning out from her aisle seat. "It would be a lot easier to take pictures without this seatbelt."

". . . That's awful."

Nowadays, people living in modern times are so quick to accept things like an airplane, a chunk of metal, soaring through the sky. Michiyo-san prays to God, Sachiko-sama takes medicine and falls right asleep; there are many different ways to cope with a fear of flying.

"Well, I'm just giving my honest opinion. It's certainly unfortunate. I think it would have made a great photo. She looks just like a little bird, frozen in fear. That's too bad. Both for me and for her."

That's Tsutako-san . . . someone who considers it an obligation, handed down from heaven, to preserve the shining moments of beautiful high school girls' "present." Or something like that.

"Ooh!"

With a deep rumbling sound, the airplane gradually picked up speed — and then in one instant, took off. The moment the wheels separated from the Earth's surface, there was a floating sensation that was a bit unpleasant. After that, it was fine. It was sort of like a roller coaster, but without the wind rushing around you. Really, you can't compare an incredible, personal experience like this to a roller coaster.

"Wow, we're up high!"

Out the window, it was just the Earth's scenery shrinking, flashing by as the airplane climbed.

"Hey, Tsutako-san, I wonder if this is how it feels to be Maria-sama watching over everything," Yumi said, tugging on Tsutako-san's sleeve.

Tsutako-san buckled over as her whole body shook with laughter, "I take it back. . . . Yumi-san is funny after all!"

A little after 12 noon, the Lillian Girls' Academy high school second year class safely departed from New Tokyo International Airport.

Part 4

The scenery outside changed to just blue skies and white clouds. As soon as the "fasten seat belts" sign turned off, students relaxed, pulled out paperback books and playing cards and other amusements for a long trip, and started moving around between seats. However you put it, it would be a long while until arriving in Italy. They wanted to pass the time as pleasantly as posslble, because by any calculation, they were stuck inside an airplane for more than half a day. Even trembling Michiyo-san could not stay afraid all 13 hours. Now she was playing a card game with Itsue-san. But it was rather difficult to keep the cards turned the right way on the airplane seat.

It was as though the cabin was changing to the overseas destination's local time, to help acclimate their bodies, so the passengers also set their wristwatches back seven hours. Strange, it had suddenly become five in the morning. There's no way to go back in time without a time machine. It felt like they had gained something.

"But we lose those seven hours on the way back."

"Ah, is that right? Then, if you live the rest of your life in Italy, do you keep those seven hours?"

"Hey, can you stop already with that stupid conversation? Listening to Yumi-san's driving me insane."From the seat in front, Yoshino-san stood up and turned around, then continued, "Time doesn't actually go backwards, so you don't gain or lose anything. Whatever year, month, or day we call it, that's just for the convenience of humanity. If they changed where the International Date Line was drawn, then Italy could even be ahead of us. No matter how far around the Earth Yumi-san moves, Yumi-san's body will still feel the same passage of time, unchanged."

"Is that limited to just the Earth?" Tsutako-san asked, caught up in the moment. "Because if we go into space, there's time dilation to worry about."

"Time dilation?"

"It's said that if a spaceship approaches the speed of light while traveling out and back, more time will pass on Earth than they expect. If you don't understand Einstein's theory of relativity, you can't grasp it."

"Tsutako-san? Do you understand and grasp it?"

"I have heard about it, it's in my head, but I don't understand it perfectly."

Tsutako-san may have just heard it and it's in her head, but Yumi still admired her with "wow, amazing."

"Did Urashima Taro go to the dragon castle on a spaceship?"

"The turtle is a UFO, Princess Otohime-sama is a space alien. That's a wonderful theory."

So by the time he returned, many centuries had passed.

"If he went into space, you'd expect him to say 'I cannot draw a picture.'"

"I see. So for us, we will dine upon an in-flight meal inside of an airplane."

The flight attendant pushed a cart and started to hand out breakfast, although it felt more like a late lunch. This was an Italian airline, so the staff was about half Japanese and half Italian. On the menu for breakfast was a light meal of a ham and cheese open-faced sandwich; not really enough for a growing child. But if you thought about it, it probably had plenty of calories because you got almost no exercise within an airplane.

"Tsutako-san, shoot this meal," Mami-san directed.

"Uh . . . I don't want to use my prized film for this," Tsutako-san complained.

Mami-san held out a disposable camera, "Fine, here. Use this camera. I'm not very good at taking pictures up close."

Her hands tended to shake; focus tended to blur.

"Sure, sure."

While putting an olive, skewered by a plastic toothpick, in her mouth, Tsutako-san reluctantly stood up. Really, she was not interested in anything except people (high school girls). But, fumbling about as if it had been a while since she used a disposable camera, she took a few good angles.

When lunch ended, the lights went off. If it were still Japan local time, now would be an active hour. What happened?

"Don't complain. Passengers are sleeping, so this is the best for in-flight harmony," Tsutako-san said, covering herself from the neck down with the blanket that was handed out.

Perhaps so. There would be no time for the cabin crew to take a break while the passengers were awake. Plus, if she slept, there was less tedious flight time. If there was someone who absolutely did not want to sleep, it was fine to stay awake. She could rely on the reading lights, with which they could literally read books and not much else. But hearing the soft, rhythmic breathing of the others made her sleepy. Imitating her friends nearby, she covered herself with a blanket and got comfortable. Before reclining her seat, Yumi tried to check with the classmate behind her, but it was too late. The classmate had already departed for the land of the sleeping. Yumi lowered her seat gently so as to avoid waking her.

(I wonder what onee-sama is doing right now?)

The clocks had changed time zones, so she didn't really have a good sense of time. If she thought about it carefully, adding seven hours was easy, but she was already beginning to nod off, making such calculations exceedingly difficult.

Part 5

Given how she felt, she agreed with Sachiko-sama's choice of sleeping the entire way. By the time their life onboard the plane had come to an end, after eating, sleeping, visiting the toilet, sleeping, and eating again, she felt a little like she'd been in a broiler.

"The cabin-lag is worse than the time-lag. My body doesn't feel like it's on Japan time, or Italy time, or any other time at all."

"I had all sorts of weird dreams."

"Yeah. I slept most of the time, but I'm still exhausted."

"I didn't even open the book I brought to pass the time."

Landing at Milan–Malpensa Airport, everyone from Lillian Girls' Academy stretched their shoulders and necks. It was after 6 p.m. local time. They did not plan to stay in Milan on this trip, this was just a layover. Their connecting flight was later in the evening. Group A was heading to Rome, whereas Group B was heading to Venice. A similar example of this would be passengers from overseas land at Narita Airport, then connect to flights to Nagoya or Fukuoka. This was the same thing. Probably.

It was about two hours until the airplane headed to Rome boarded, so they had around an hour of free time to spare, which was plenty if they needed to use the bathroom again. However, they had to stay on this floor, and in groups of at least two people. They'll call roll 30 minutes before, so absolutely be back here by then. Those were the conditions. Nobody would dare complain, "all those rules are annoying" and, "isn't that a bit overprotective?" on their first trip overseas. A child lost in a place like this would be terrible. Yumi remembered how nervous she was on her first errand out alone, about ten years ago.

It was natural that there was nothing written in Japanese anywhere in the airport. It was all in Italian, or maybe English. Her eyes were too tired to tell which was which; she could just make out the alphabet. She'd been taught Hiragana, Katakana, and Kanji all her life and she was used to them. Her eyes could see them without even thinking. Sometimes she'd see Japanese written on a small sign, likely for tourists. That alone made her happy.

In the airport were many duty-free brand-name shops with just authentic Italian fashions. She'd decided to carry only ¥20,000 as pocket money, not enough to buy shoes or a bag even if she wanted to. If you managed to sneak a family credit card on the trip, you couldn't get larger items home unless there was room in your carry on baggage. The prohibition on suitcases seemed to be a precautionary measure against buying such items.

"Students who need coins, come forward," Katori-sensei called out to the Pine class students who had gathered around for roll call. Everyone had exchanged currencies in Japan, but only paper bills; they were to get coins after arriving in Italy. You tip in this country, unlike in Japan. They learned in an explanatory meeting that it was essential to pay gratuities for service in hotels and restaurants, and they needed small coins for that.

The teacher exchanged money with students as they came up, breaking their bills into small change. In a broad sense, the exchange of money could be thought of as social studies, but naïve students might not realize that on their own at first.

"Yoshino-san?"

Yumi asked as they returned from the restroom together.

"Well, Rei-chan gave me a farewell gift of some coins she didn't use and brought back last year. So that should be fine for right now, don't you think? Beyond that, I thought I'd break some notes buying souvenirs or similar things . . . oops."

Yoshino-san covered her mouth with her hand, as though she'd made a mistake. Apparently it was supposed to be a secret that the coins put her slightly over ¥20,000. That said, it was a mistake on about the same level as not factoring in sales tax when buying sweets for an excursion.

"What about you, Yumi-san?"

With the roles reversed, Yumi was in two minds. It would certainly be easy to exchange money at the "Bank of Katori-sensei," but where was the fun in that?

"I'll break a bill myself. It'll be an experience if nothing else."

Yumi came to Italy, so shouldn't she try an experience that she can only do here? The whole point of the school trip was to learn from experiences you cannot normally have.

"Ooh, a challenger!" Yoshino-san exclaimed, and clapped her hands together.

Well, once you've made a decision, you need to figure out how to do it. She thought she could easily break a bill by buying something, so the strategy is to go into a duty-free shop, buy something small, and get some coins. She might buy something useless, but looking at the long term view, she had more than enough money.

"Something like gum or chocolate should be fine, right?" Yoshino-san asked while pointing to the corner near the register, but Yumi couldn't be pinned down to either choice.

"Are you giving up the challenge?"

"But, like, sure I could buy them, but it'd be a complete waste if they turned out to be awful. Because I'm using my precious spending money."

It was probably in keeping with Italy's national character, but the sweets looked fashionable, and from a glance it looked like they were full of food coloring and flavorings.

"Then what about chocolate? This one's a major brand you can get in Japan."

Yumi had eaten those, so she knew what they tasted like. Inside the brown package were small, button-shaped chocolates covered in various colored coatings.

"But isn't that chocolate a gamble?"

That sack would only seal once, so once it was opened, it would need a rubber band or something, or else its contents would spill out and stain your bag without your knowledge. In fact, that happened once when she unwittingly left her bag in a warm place. Yumi was well aware that there are methodical people that constantly pay attention, but one can get excited or distracted.

"Then, what would be good? While we've wavered, it's almost time to meet back up."

"Mmm . . . "

Inexpensive, not too large—nothing seemed appropriate. Even at a Japanese convenience store, it might be hard to come up with something quickly. When you're in a hurry, it becomes hard to think.

"I got it. This." Yumi quickly pulled something from a side shelf with a "Yaa!"

"What's that?"

"A magic marker."

"Yeah, I can tell from looking. But," trailing off, Yoshino-san looked like she didn't really want the first thing she bought overseas to be a magic marker. "You can buy those just as easily in Japan."

"It's fine. Going by that, chocolate is the same. We had two goals here: buy something on our own, and get some coins. So it'll be a huge success if we clear those goals."

"Even if it's a marker?"

"Put an entry on the printed map that you got. 'I went to this place.' You can use it when you return to Japan. Underline things in your textbook."

"Yes, yes. I got it. I understand, so please buy it quickly. I'll wait outside the shop exit."

"R-roger."

Yumi got in the checkout line and waited. As she expected at an international airport, looking around inside the shop, she saw many people with different skin, hair, and eye color, all shopping and holding their preferred items in their hands. Lillian's black school uniform stood out among them. Other than Yumi, the students here and there drew the attention of the foreigners. No . . . here, the Japanese were the foreigners.

"Bo-buon giorno."

That was the initial greeting after entering a store, and sticking to what she was taught to say, she spoke with the lady at the cash register, who replied with, "Buona sera." Even in Japan, the boundaries between "good day," "good morning," and "good evening" were a bit fuzzy, so it couldn't be helped. If you think about it, Lillian's standard "gokigenyou" was a reasonable greeting. After that, Yumi used a bill to buy the marker. Change was placed in her hand. Success! She had completed her first mission. Because this was a shop in an airport, the prices were printed in both Italian and English at the checkout stand, so even if you couldn't speak the same language you would be fine.

While rushing back to Yoshino-san, she heard the words "Rosa Gigantea" along the way. She turned and look over her shoulder, and saw it was a bunch of Lillian students who were gathered together, standing and talking.

(Shimako-san, what have you been doing?)

She was glad to turn back and listen, even though Yoshino-san was waiting out front, silently creating a "hurry up!" pressure. She stopped. Within that group was a familiar face. It seemed that Shimako-san was methodical and reliable, unlike Yumi and Yoshino-san. Shimako-san was at the Wisteria class meeting place.

"How are you?" Yumi greeted her.

"Fine. Oh, you already bought something?" Shimako-san noticed.

"He he he! This first mission also serves to make some change," Yumi said with an awkward laugh. Next to her, Yoshino-san added a supplementary, "It's a marker."

"Ah. Ah, I see," Shimako-san clapped her hands together as if to say, "I just remembered." She did not seem particularly interested in the marker. "I need to discuss something with you two. I wonder if the three of us could pool our money to buy souvenirs for the Rose Mansion."

"I think that would be good."

"Ah, yes."

It's economical. That way they could buy something good. Yoshino-san and Yumi had no objection, it was as if they already had an unspoken agreement to do so.

"We can get it at the airport on the way back. It will just sit in our luggage otherwise."

"I was thinking food, perhaps? Touko-chan and Kanako-chan have been coming to help us lately, so we should include them as well."

"Oh yeah. I should have brought you to that shop from earlier."

"You think so? But, that's fine. There will be time on the return flight."

As Shimako-san and Yoshino-san rapidly continued the conversation, a thought arose from within the murky depths of Yumi's brain. The keywords were "souvenir" and "food."

"Hey. Regarding souvenirs," Yumi started. After hesitating, she confided in the two of them.

"What?"

"Do you have a good idea?"

It was hard to speak when facing such expectant faces. But she spoke anyway, because she would never be able to forgive herself if she did not see this through to the end. How will they react after they hear this?

"If possible, Roma Manjuu or Firenze Senbei would be nice."

Needless to say, Shimako-san and Yoshino-san were both frozen for a bit.

Part 6

Fiumicino Airport, considered to be the entrance to Rome, was also named after an artist well-known even in Japan: Leonardo da Vinci Airport. It was more than an hour's flight from Milan, and when they arrived it was after 9:30 p.m.

"Thank goodness, we finally made it!"

But it was a bit too early to relax. They still had to take a bus to get from the airport to their hotel in Rome. While waiting for the teacher's suitcases—which were large because they were filled with things from school—to come around on the luggage carousel, they took roll and reviewed tomorrow's plans. Shortly after that, the three classes split up and boarded two charter buses that were waiting at the exit of the terminal.

The gentle vibrations invited the Sandman. Dozing a bit, Yumi awoke to a classmate's voice of admiration: "Wow." Following suit, she looked out the window and uttered, "Wow," herself. Until a little while ago, they were traveling down a road as ordinary as anywhere in Japan. Now, they were meandering through a town of historic relics.

"How beautiful!"

One after another, old stone buildings appeared in the light, like a movie set. But this wasn't a movie set. They coexisted with modern life: signs for brand names, shop windows, traffic lights, crosswalks, streetlamps dazzling with electric light. All there as if natural; brazenly asserting their existence here in the middle of this ancient capital.

Eventually, the bus turned through a gap in the roadside trees and stopped. If a clock were nearby, they would have seen that it was 10:30, finally arriving at their hotel.

Room keycards were first distributed in the lobby, then the girls were herded into elevators. It was not that big of a hotel, so if the first set of students were not up in their rooms by the time the second bus arrived, the lobby would be jam-packed.

"231."

While looking at the room card key, she stretched a finger towards the panel. But the ② button was already lit.

"It appears that it's not on the second floor," Mami-san said while looking at her notebook. In Europe, they counted floors differently than they counted in Japan. In Japan, the ground floor was the first floor. But here, that was up one flight of stairs. In other words, the ground floor was the zeroth floor. The ground floor here could be counted using the same logic as the first basement floor in Japan. Because there was a floor for the breakfast hall in this hotel, they could not calculate which floor held room 231, at least not like they could in Japan.

"Ah, I'm tired," complained Yoshino-san, her roommate, as she entered. She then collapsed onto the bed closest to the door.

"Oh, Yumi-san, did you want this bed? If so, we can switch right now."

"No. Either one's fine."

Shaking her head, Yumi walked to the bed nearest the window, holding her own bag. She wasn't particularly worried about visiting the bathroom at night or hearing footsteps in the hallway. She couldn't imagine that sleeping on either the left or right bed would be any different.

"Okay. Then I'm here," Yoshino-san said as she lolled about, eyes closed.

"Your uniform will get wrinkled."

"Unn."

Yoshino-san had barely gotten her shoes off, but in her state, you couldn't really call her polite. But while she was like this, she was impossible to wake up.

Well now, thought Yumi. She then opened her bag's zipper and from within, pulled out a T-shirt, trainer, and three-quarters pants and changed into them. She sat down on the bed. It looked like Yoshino-san was going to stay where she was. In a room with only two people, if they both collapsed, it was over.

While she took off her uniform and put it on a hanger, she pulled the change from a pocket and put it on the nightstand. She was ready to give a tip after asking a bellboy to bring up their luggage. But since she ended up carrying her own luggage to the room, she decided to leave the unused portion as a tip for housekeeping tomorrow morning.

She took out some travel slippers, removed her socks, she slid her bare feet into the slippers. Her feet breathed a sigh of relief. She finally had a chance to relax and look around the room.

Ivory walls. Deep purple carpet with a dark red floral pattern. Brown furniture and doors. The room had a simple and slightly retro ambiance. However, the curtains asserted themselves. A floral pattern on top of yellow stripes of varying widths, it was a gorgeous and fashionable design, it matched the one-legged sofa in the room.

"Yoshino-san."

"Nnn . . . just a bit more."

"It can't be helped."

Yumi entered the bathroom and decided for the time being to fill the bathtub with hot water.

Well, not quite fill. Must not overflow. At the preliminary information meeting, the teacher repeatedly emphasized this. Apparently, in the past, some seniors had flooded their bathroom, causing a leak through the ceiling of the floor below. To avoid making this same mistake herself, Yumi stayed right here on this spot until the proper amount of water had filled the tub.

While occasionally checking the water's temperature, she looked around at the bathroom.

"It's gorgeous. . . ."

Walls and floor made of marble that looked like caramel ice cream. This and that. Wow, marble. White porcelain for the sink, tub, and toilet.

"Ooh, just as rumored."

A bidet. It seems that Europeans used one after the toilet. However, she didn't really know how to use the one in front of her. At the informational meeting, a teacher explained that "it is not a sink for children," but did not pose to show them: "this is how to use it."

"Hey, how do I use this thing?"

Opening the door, she turned to ask Yoshino-san. But, of course, there was no reply.

This was boring. It was fun to chatter away, looking at things like this, with somebody else. Not alone.

While doing this, the bathtub filled with hot water.

"Yoshino-san, the bathtub's ready. Go on in."

Returning to the room and shaking the shoulder of her sleeping friend, the thought, "I'm like a new wife," entered her mind.

"Yu . . . san . . . go . . . he. . . . et . . eep . . . ger. . . ."

"What?"

Deciphering this unintelligible code, it was probably, "Yumi-san, you go ahead. Let me sleep a while longer."

"Yoshino-san!"

"Unn."

Hey, that was no good. Would it be better to just let her sleep? She hated to wake the poor thing, but Yoshino-san was not a baby, nor could she put a sleeping Yoshino-san in the bath. Yumi wondered if Rei-sama had to deal with things like this with Yoshino-san. Grabbing a vinyl toiletry pouch and clean underwear, she headed towards the bathroom.

"Oh yeah, that's right."

She took her uniform from the closet and brought it into the bathroom. It was now on a hanger, hanging on a hook on the back of the closed door. The steam from the bath can get minor wrinkles out of clothes.

Prepared. While thinking that it was the time to plunge into the bath, Yumi suddenly noticed.

"There's nowhere to wash first. That means I cannot wash before getting in the tub."

When in Rome, do as the Romans do. But Japanese do love their baths. Oh well, soak first.

"In the tub, wash your hair, wash your body, wash your face. Then you have to pull the stopper to drain the water in which you were immersed."

In the Fukuzawa household, the water is reheated and reused for four people. What a waste. But she cannot help but use shampoo and soap. After deliberately deciding all that, she relaxed her body in the warm water. Twice she had to force herself awake, shaking off drowsiness.

"Don't do that. If I fall asleep in here, I could drown. No joke!"

It will be tomorrow soon. It's 8 a.m. Japan time. Although she slept on the plane, it was just a shallow nap. Naturally, she was sleepy.

Washing her whole body while yawning, bath time came to an end.

While drying her hair with a hair dryer, she got things ready for Yoshino-san's turn next. But the shower head was fixed to the top of the wall, like the showers by the school's pool, so it was hard to rinse away the foam from the sides of the tub. It turns out, there is a considerable amount of skill to washing oneself.

"Yoshino-san. I'm out. Wake up."

"Un."

Yoshino-san hadn't moved from when Yumi last left her. Still in her uniform, lying on her bed.

"Are you going to take a bath or not? If not, I'll turn off the hot water."

"Not now."

Well, that was a complicated answer.

"So, later then?"

"I don't know."

"Then it would be better to sleep properly. Or you'll catch a cold." Here, take off your uniform. Then I can hang it in the bathroom for you."

". . . I can't wake up," Yoshino-san lazily spoke, and sluggishly put her arms out in front of her.

"It can't be helped." Yumi took those arms and pulled. "Okay, let's get changed."

I've become a mother. No, I can't say that. No way could I do that.

"Huh?"

At that moment, Yumi noticed something.

". . . Yoshino-san?"

"What?"

Yoshino-san, finally sitting up on the bed, looked at Yumi.

"Do you have a fever, maybe?"

"I thought I might. But Yumi-san's hands don't feel cold, so it can't be very high."

"That's high! I'm still warm from just getting out of the bath."

And yet, Yoshino-san's hand was as hot as she was.

"I'm calling the teacher."

She was sure there was a note with the teacher's room number somewhere, in case something happened. Yumi turned to go look for it, but Yoshino-san grabbed her arm.

"I'll be fine. Please."

Don't tell the teacher. Even in her weakened state, she had a strong grip.

"But—"

"It's a slight fever. I get them a lot. It will go down if I sleep with a damp towel on my forehead."

"Yoshino-san . . ."

Yoshino-san's eyes filled with tears. It wasn't because her body hurt. It was because she hated that someone else knew.

"Is this usual?"

Yumi knelt beside the bed and looked into Yoshino-san's face. Yoshino-san gave a small, definite, nod.

"If you cool your forehead, you'll get better?"

"Yes," Yoshino-san stated with a clear voice.

"All right. Then that's what we'll do."

Yumi turned off the hot water pouring into the tub, pulled pajamas out of Yoshino-san's bag, got her changed into them, and into bed properly.

"For the towel, is the hotel's smallest size okay?"

"About that. Please use the hand towel that's in a pocket in my bag."

"In a pocket in your bag, huh."

Searching in the designated place, she pulled out a small towel with cute chicks patterned on it.

". . . how old is this?"

It was quite faded, with a few mended spots here and there. Even though it was a towel, it gave the impression of a cherished stuffed animal.

"Yeah. But it's a magical towel. It has always lowered my fevers. When I was little, I couldn't sleep without it."

"I see. Well, time for it to go to work again."

Yumi rinsed the towel in the sink, wrung it out slightly, and placed it on Yoshino-san's forehead.

"Thank you. That feels good."

"Ah. I'm glad."

Yumi pulled up a chair near Yoshino-san's bedside and sat down. Somehow, Yoshino-san's face appeared peaceful.

"My heart problems are over, but I still get fevers when I get tired. But their frequency is gradually going down."

"Unn."

"Sorry," Yoshino-san confessed. "I didn't want to tell the teacher because then I couldn't be together with everyone."

"I see."

Yoshino-san had been in poor health, so on extracurricular lessons, she was always at the teacher's side. Watching hard play from the sidelines, excused from her share of work, a classmate not part of the group, she probably felt quite alienated. But she still could participate. She was absent on school trips.

"In homeroom, when they were handing out hotel room assignments, I really wanted a room together with Yumi-san. I hoped so hard, didn't I? So everyone else backed down."

"That's right," answered Yumi. She remembered that time well. "By all means, I want to be in the same room as Yumi-san," was a bit too straightforward, but honestly, it made Yumi happy. That somebody liked her that much. Because of Yoshino-san's personality, it wasn't something she ever thought about.

Yoshino-san confirmed. "Yeah. This was why. I suspected something like this might happen. I think our classmates all backed down so unexpectedly for the same reason."

Even though they had both been at Lillian since kindergarten, this was the first time they were in the same class. But the students who had been in classes with Yoshino-san certainly still remembered her before her surgery. Thinking that she might get sick during the trip, they decided it would be better if she was with someone who could give her peace of mind.

"Yumi-san. Thank you for taking care of me."

That sounded like a line from an old story, which an old and sick father would say to his daughter. The next line from the daughter would be, "Don't say such things."

"I've been told 'friends exist to take on such burdens.' So don't worry about it."

It was the previous Rosa Chinensis, Mizuno Youko-sama, who said it. Right around the time of the Yellow Rose Revolution.

"But when you look at it objectively, those are just words, right? Because I don't consider it a burden to take care of Yoshino-san. I certainly think that this is the kind of thing that friends should do."

"Thank you."

"No more talking. Sleep," Yumi ordered, then turned off half the lights. "But, If it hasn't gone down by tomorrow morning, I'm telling the teacher."

"I understand."

She laid down on her own bed, but was too worried to sleep. Her body was awfully tired, but her thoughts kept going. I want to change Yoshino-san's towel now and then. Anyway, I had better resolve to get a good night's sleep.

(I hope I can wake up properly tomorrow morning.)

Suddenly, that thought crossed her mind, waking her with a start. Oops. She had not set an alarm clock.

(Let's see, tomorrow morning's Pine class breakfast time is . . .)

Quietly slipping out of bed to avoid waking the sleeping Yoshino-san, Yumi got up and checked the travel guidebook.

(7:15 to 7:45.)

That means she had to wake up before 7:00. No, they didn't have to all sit and say grace together, so it would be fine to get to the dining hall at 7:30. It's just divided by class to avoid a concentration of people at one time.

Brush teeth, wash face, put on uniform. Going through a sequence of tasks that would take 15 minutes, she decided to wake up at 7:00. She could do her hair after the meal.

(Now, the alarm clock . . .)

She searched the nightstand between the two beds. Usually, it would be here somewhere. In the hotels we stay at during family trips, it was usually built right into the table, next to the phone.

(It's not here.)

Smart travelers did not carry items they thought the hotel would have. She heard from the teacher that they didn't have toothbrushes, slippers, or robes. But she did not think there would be no alarm clock. She didn't even consider wearing a different wristwatch.

(Wa-wake-up call?)

Even at a Japanese hotel, she had never done such a thing. But she was unlikely to wake on her own, so it could not be helped. She had to rely on help from someone else.

(I certainly can't ask Yoshino-san.)

She could not ask the teacher, it was already 1 a.m. Besides, if she called the teacher's room and the teacher asked about Yoshino-san, she lacked the confidence to lie smoothly.

While hesitating, time marched on. Resolute, Yumi turned to face the telephone. It was a very ordinary phone with numbers next to push buttons that looked like speed dial. Perhaps pressing one of these buttons will do. But in the small print next to the buttons, there was nothing like "Wake Up Call."

(Maybe "Front Desk"?)

But there was nothing like "Front Desk" written anywhere.

(Uh . . . Which should I push?)

It wasn't "Room Service." Didn't seem to be "Housekeeping," or "Laundry," either. All that was left was "Operator" and "Reception." "Operator" gave an image of a telephone operator, but she had no idea what "Reception" was.

(Come on. What are you going to do, Yumi?)

Two choices. Whichever she chose, she had no confidence. Next time she travels abroad, she's bringing an alarm clock and a Japanese–English dictionary. Finding some courage, she reached out for the receiver. If it was the wrong choice, she could try again. She pushed the button labeled "Reception".

In English, she heard, "Hello?"

The other party had picked up after 5 rings. It was the deep voice of a man. She did not understand well because it was so fast, but maybe it was . . .

"How can I help you?" or something like that.

"Er, um . . . Morni—"

Stopping halfway through "Morning Call," she thought, "that's not it," and changed her mind.

In English, she said, "Wake up call, please."

Because "Morning Call" is a Japanese phrase of English words, and would not be understood. She remembered her teacher's words from when she read in English class. When it comes to human memory, there are all sorts of things that come up.

She continued, in English, "At seven."

Wow, what steady English! When she had to read in English class, she was told to pronounce a bit more clearly. Well, if she was able to communicate this time, she could hold her head with pride. She might be unable to speak smoothly or start sentences with "could you" or "would you." That couldn't be helped. As long as she was still understood by the other party.

"Okay." The reply came from the other end of the phone. Looks like he understood. After that was a stream of non-stop rapid talking. As expected, she could not understand any of it. She barely made out "seven" and "two three one," to which she replied, "Yes".

"Ni san ichi, ne. O-yasumi-nasai."

Saying that in Japanese, the other end of the phone hung up. It seems they get a lot of Japanese tourists. Apparently, the other side's language skill was one level higher.

After refreshing Yoshino-san's forehead towel with cold water, Yumi crawled into bed.

A day 8 hours longer than usual came to an end. The problem of the alarm clock had been solved. She needed to catch some shut-eye.

She wasn't Yoshino-san, but once she closed her eyes for a moment, it looked like it would be a long time before she would be able to wake up.

Translator's Notes

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