Maria-sama ga Miteru:Volume6 Chapter5

The Crimson Card

I let out a sigh for Valentines.

Alone, standing by the window.

I wonder what has become of the crimson card since then. It's probably still buried in the dark soil. Or else it's resting gently in the hands of its rightful owner.

If it's the former, then it would be better to reclaim it soon.

Or else let it stay forgotten, and let my past stay buried with it.

Since people's feelings are beyond their control.

The heart flutters, and the status-quo cannot be maintained.

Part 1.

That day.

"Mifuyu-san"

The austere voice called out to me.

It was lunch time, and I had been idly looking out the window and thinking about her when the person herself appeared before my very eyes and surprised me.

But the person in question didn't know this, and tilted her head slightly before quickly moving on to the matter at hand. As an important person she was always busy with work, and didn't have the free time to pay attention to her classmates' every minor concern.

"You and Tomoko-san are on duty today, aren't you?"

"Huh? … Yeah"

"Can you go to the science preparation room right now? Earlier I was stopped in the hallway by Oomori-sensei and asked to tell the people on duty that there were printouts that needed to be collected for the fifth period class."

"The science preparation room"

"Sorry, but I couldn't see Tomoko-san anywhere – "

"Ahhh..."

Today was Valentines Day, so my partner on duty, Tomoko-san, had gone to give her hand-made chocolates to her onee-sama. About now she would probably be at the intersection of the paths lined with ginkgo trees, in front of the statue of Maria-sama.

"Well, I'll head off by myself."

If she had time to come over here and tell me this, she could have gone to the science preparation room herself. As I was thinking this, I raised myself from the window frame I had been leaning against when she stopped me by saying, "That's not it."

"So should I help you? – Was how I was going to finish my sentence."

(…)

With her request, those few words spoken out of kindness, came the full power of my imagination. So, to me, it wasn't just a simple favor she was offering.

We had arrived at this point unexpectedly. But since we've come this far.

Sachiko-san had probably only said that because it was too much for one person to handle by themselves. That was all it was.

"Mifuyu-san?"

With a single glance, you can tell that she is a perfect lady. Someone who will soon take up a position as representative of the high school division of this academy. That wasn't the only thing she had going for her – she also had her looks, attitude and popularity.

But I think even that only scratches the surface.

"No, it's fine. If it's only some printouts, I should be able to do it myself."

When I politely declined she said 'Really?' and then walked away, like I thought she would.

Really?

Then I'll leave it to you.

– Fairly abrupt.

By no means cold. But having said that, definitely not affectionate.

There's no warmth between her and I.

That's not only with me. She's like that with almost everyone. It's like shaking hands with someone wearing silk gloves, so to speak.

"Sachiko-san"

Despite refusing the favor she had offered, leaving things as is was difficult. So I turned towards her, with her long, black hair quickly swinging from side to side across her uniform covered back, and called out.

"What?"

Slowly, she turned around.

"Umm … Thank-you. And good luck with today."

"Yeah"

The corners of her mouth were raised fractionally as she answered. Was she smiling, or grimacing? I hadn't seen her smile often, so I couldn't tell.

I, Uzawa Mifuyu, entered Lillian's Girls Academy at the start of high school. It's now the third semester of my second year, so I've already spent a little over half of my high-school time on these grounds, under the protection of Maria-sama.

Entrance exams tend to be the standard way to show that you possess the appropriate level of scholarly ability, and that's the case for people who knock on the door to Lillian's Girls Academy with no prior connection to the school.

In my case, the conditions were somewhat different. Strictly speaking, I wasn't a newcomer to this school. I had previously taken the entrance exam for Lillian's Girls Academy once already, managed to pass somehow, and secured myself a position. Kindergarten may have been a long time ago, but I'm still proud of it.

Back then, my mother was dancing with delight that her child had been accepted. My mother's mother, ie. my grandmother, is an alumna of Lillian's and her dream had been that her daughter would also attend. Although my mother was born and raised in the suburbs of Chiba City, she didn't give up on the idea of entering into Lillian's Girls Academy. To this day my mother maintains that there was no question of whether or not she would be able to make the commute, although I doubt that the school would accept someone who faced a two and a half hour commute each way, even if they did meet the academic standards. It may be different for a university student, but my mother wanted to do this as a middle school student.

Anyway, back to the story. Having entered into kindergarten, I had enjoyed half a year of life at Lillian's when struck by unexpected bad fortune. My father was transferred and, reluctantly, we left Tokyo, so I had to step outside of the pristine greenhouse. My mother lamented the situation, and I too received a considerable shock. But, as a young child, I had no means of expressing this, so when my mother came to pick me up on my final day at kindergarten I simply said my usual farewells to my classmates, took her hand and left the premises without shedding any tears. I only heard about it afterwards, but back then my mother pleaded with my father, asking to remain in Tokyo even though it would mean living apart. But my father said, "If we don't go together, we'll have to get a divorce," so she tearfully accompanied him. My father was right. If their daughter's kindergarten was reason enough for them to live apart, then divorce was the only option. But I don't think my father was truly being serious. It was only to get my mother to open her eyes. Even to this day, both my parents are embarrassingly close.

Time passed, and I'd almost finished my third year of middle school when my father was recalled to his company's main office in Tokyo. Simultaneously, mine and my mother's dreams of me once more attending Lillian's Girls Academy started to grow.

As a private school, they could be flexible about various matters. As someone who had received a position at Lillian's in the past, I was able to take the same test as the Lillian's middle school students rather than the test for students from other schools. Because of this, I was able to make the grade and was accepted into the high school. The timing was fortuitous and it probably worked to my advantage that one of my relatives is an alumna of Lillian's.

My mother probably wanted her daughter to be accepted into the school she loved wholeheartedly, but for me it was different. I had a reason for wanting to return that was unrelated to the prestige of the school.

I wanted to meet that person once more.

Barring some kind of accident, that person would still be at this academy. Because of this belief, I had wanted to return here for elementary school and middle school. At long last, my wish would finally be granted for high school.

The day of the high school entrance ceremony.

I was trembling as I read the class list. Her name was written directly beneath my name.

Ogasawara Sachiko.

The single name, out of all my classmates in kindergarten, that I had not forgotten.

Part 2.

Sachiko-san's existence was just as conspicuous in kindergarten as it is now.

For starters, even the way she arrived at school was different.

In the morning, a black car would pull up at the western gate, near the kindergarten. A beautiful little girl wearing a kindergarten uniform would emerge from the back seat. It wasn't her father or an older brother in the driver's seat. Nor was there anyone else in the back seat.

"I'll take my leave now."

She would seem displeased while saying this, and step away from the car. She would walk from the gate to the kindergarten in silence, without looking back. Eventually, the car would drive off. At the faint sound of the tires on the bitumen, she would take a single glance back over her shoulder. She would then sweep her gaze from side to side, before she once more resumed walking. It was as though she was surveying a battlefield. – That was Sachiko-san.

I saw that scene played out time and time again as I commuted to kindergarten.

Perhaps going to kindergarten itself was painful for her. There were plenty of children who wouldn't go to their classroom, and instead cling to their mothers when they first arrived at kindergarten.

As for my blessed self, since my earliest days my mother had been planting only a good image of school, so I looked forward to entering into kindergarten and adapted to it quickly.

You could say that kindergarten is when you first take part in society. You spend long periods of time separated from your parents, and there's probably an equivalent amount of stress. On top of that, it gathers together various children of the same age that each have their own personality. Even if you're not shy or meek, it's an environment that's hard to adapt to initially.

I was interested in Sachiko-san.

At first my interest was, naturally enough, in her overly conspicuous appearance. You could say that it was her innate ability, and it certainly was, but there was something about it that seemed to defy that phrase.

Something that made her difficult to get close to.

We learned about her family situation later, but I doubt more than a handful of kids truly understood. Back then I thought being driven to school was simply a matter of distance, like whether you walked to school or caught the bus. – Sachiko-san's house actually was a fair distance from the bus route, so that thought wasn't completely wrong.

It would be too far even for flattery to say that Sachiko-san fit in at kindergarten. Children can sense when others are different to themselves. In the beginning there were a lot of classmates who treated her as a curiosity and would watch her from a safe distance. Because Sachiko-san was Sachiko-san, she was able to sense this and her face, that looked displeased at the best of times, would scrunch up even further as she actively ignored them.

Sachiko-san was silently fighting.

Even if the kindergarten wasn't a happy place for her, she wasn't the type of child to scream and cry that she wanted to go home. Despite being such a young child, she probably had her own sense of pride.

Whether it was painting or handicrafts, Sachiko-san never lost to anyone. Particularly impressive was the time we were shown some basic dance steps by the teacher during playtime. As we all awkwardly followed the teacher's directions, she alone was extraordinary.

It was like the difference between heaven and hell. She was a jewel in the dunghill.

As we writhed on the ground like a squirming caterpillar, she danced like a graceful butterfly.

It was so beautiful, it was as though an angel had descended from heaven.

"I heard she takes ballet lessons."

Somebody muttered those words as some consolation, but it was just making excuses. Sachiko-san wasn't the only one in our class to take ballet lessons.

Then one day, because of a thoughtless remark from one of our classmates, she stopped coming to school by car.

It was a petty affront. Not something worth taking notice of.

Instead, she switched to catching the bus to school. She wasn't going to lose. Perhaps she had been thinking about it beforehand, but there's no doubt that the taunt had been the impetus to change. She would get driven, in the same black car, to the school bus stop closest to her house, and from there catch the bus the rest of the way to school. Because her house wasn't within walking distance of the bus stop, she had no choice but to get dropped off by car. But even then, she would get dropped off around the corner before the bus stop and walk the rest of the way.

My eyes were continuously drawn to the minutia of Sachiko-san's everyday life. But my happiness wouldn't last long. My father's transfer had been decided.

My father and mother spent several days discussing matters related to the transfer, such as relocating and so forth, and I spent that time at kindergarten in somewhat of a daze.

Very soon, I would no longer be able to see Sachiko-san.

My feelings back then were somewhat strange; the nuance wasn't so much that it would be painful to part with Sachiko-san, more that it was a shame that I wouldn't be able to watch her. Right. My wish wasn't to play or chat with Sachiko-san.

On that day, during recess, I made a mistake and had a spectacular fall from the swings. At that time, the fad was to jump off the swing as it was still moving. The teachers had forbidden us from doing this, but we didn't pay them any heed. We younger children were trying to imitate our older sisters, and when the teacher wasn't looking we would practice jumping off the swing when it was swinging low.

I had been absent-minded all day, and when my friends called me over I joined them in line until, eventually, my turn arrived and I sat down on the swing. I was good at jumping off the swing because I practiced often at the park in my neighborhood.

Swish, swish.

I thought of the wind.

Perhaps I too would soon be gone from this place, just like the wind. What would it be like after I had left? I couldn't picture it in my mind, so I couldn't see whether it would be lonely or not.

I seized upon the solitary figure of a little girl in my shifting field of vision.

Ogasawara Sachiko.

It was then that I realized. Me leaving here would be exactly the same as if everyone other than me left.

Sachiko-san noticed my gaze and suddenly turned to face me. Her eyes seized upon my body and her beautiful face quickly frowned in displeasure. When I realized that I was the cause of the disgust on her face, the shock I felt was like I had been shot in the heart with a pistol. The subsequent shock was that my hands, which I had thought were firmly gripping the chains, had come loose.

It was only for a fraction of a second, but I had become the wind, flying through space. The sky spun around and for a moment I thought things looked different to normal, before I crashed into the ground.

"Mifuyu-chan!"

The friends I had been playing on the swings with hurriedly gathered around, and then when they saw the blood that was slowly trickling from my kneecap they all stepped back.

Luckily, the ground around the swings was covered with sand, so it was soft. It seems that I had flipped over completely and taken the impact with the ground on my hands and knees, preventing it from turning into a tragedy. It was a spectacular crash, but the only place I was bleeding was from my skinned knee.

With time came the pain, and with the blood came the tears.

"I'm going to get the teacher."

One of the braver girls ran off towards the school building, while the timid ones said 'Me too,' 'Me too,' and also ran off until no-one remained. I only learned the phrase 'to scatter like baby spiders' later on, but it applied here. The children who had been playing on the other pieces of playground equipment were too scared to get involved, so they maintained a distance of at least five metres from me.

Out of all these people, only one approached me. It was Sachiko-san.

"Are you okay?"

She chose the most pertinent question to start off with and, when I nodded vigorously while crying, she seemed relieved. Her next question was said in a shocked tone of voice.

"What on earth were you doing?"

Before my eyes, she produced a white handkerchief. I thought it was to wipe away my tears. Because it was of such a fine quality I hesitated to use the thin handkerchief as a gauze.

While I was still wondering what I should do, Sachiko-san squatted down beside me and applied the handkerchief to my knee without a moment's pause.

"Ahh"

"Does it hurt? You're being punished because you didn't listen to the teacher's orders."

I belatedly understood the reason for the look of disgust that had appeared on Sachiko-san's face before I fell from the swing. It wasn't that she hated me, it was just that she was opposed to people breaking the rules.

The teacher appeared, pulled from inside the building by children, and Sachiko-san stood up.

"Ahh, your handkerchief..."

"You can keep it. I have another one."

And with that overly blunt response, Sachiko-san took her leave. I wanted to chase after her, but my knee and my heart were hurting, and I didn't dare call out to tell her to stop.

While the teacher was washing my knee and drying the abrasion with absorbent cotton soaked with an antiseptic solution, I held tight to the lightly blood-stained handkerchief. It was the first time that I had talked one-on-one with Sachiko-san, and also the first time that she had given me something.

From this, I concluded that the reason Sachiko-san was cut off from the rest of the class was because she was more mentally mature than everyone else. Because she was more adult than the rest of the girls her age, they couldn't connect on the same level.

Before long, the day arrived when I had to leave Lillian's Girls Academy. Having finished saying my goodbyes in the classroom, I called out to Sachiko-san as she waited in the garden for the school bus.

There were two routes that the bus took. In order to service these routes with a single bus, they ran at different times. The white route and the red route. Sachiko-san's was the red route, which ran later. Incidentally, getting picked up by your parents was called the yellow route.

Calling out to Sachiko-san took strength that I didn't know I possessed until then, but I firmed my resolve thinking that returning her handkerchief was a just cause and that today was the last opportunity I had to do that.

My mother had washed and ironed it. She had even called my grandmother in Chiba City for advice on how to get rid of the bloodstains and, as reward for all her effort, no trace of the yellow stains from the dried blood remained.

"I said you could keep it, didn't I?"

As I held out the handkerchief, Sachiko-san looked at me with her usual disinterested expression.

"But my mother said I should return it."

Then I held out the small package that my mother had given me.

"What is it?"

"She told me it was chocolates."

"Chocolates?"

"She said it's to show our gratitude."

I was annoyed with myself that I could only express it as though I was acting as a proxy for my mother. But at the time, my young self was unable to convey what was in her heart, and I couldn't say, "I'm grateful to you."

"… I see."

After some thought, Sachiko-san accepted the handkerchief and the small package of chocolates.

"Convey my regards to your mother, Mifuyu-chan."

It was the first time that I heard Sachiko-san call me 'Mifuyu-chan.'

The school bus returned from the first route. Before Sachiko-san boarded the bus, she said 'See you later' to me.

See you later. I repeated it back to her.

See you later, Sachiko-chan.

I could see Sachiko-san smiling and waving through the bus window. Looking like that, she didn't appear any different to the rest of the five year olds.

See you later.

I waved back at her.

I kept facing towards the bus until my mother had completed the various formalities and came to collect me.

Even though Sachiko-san could no longer see me from where she was.

It wasn't goodbye.

Because of that, I thought that one day I would return here.

Part 3.

When I next met Sachiko-san, I had the strange impression that she was just like how I thought she would be, and also completely different to how I imagined her.

On the outside, she appeared just the same as in kindergarten. Although as she approached adulthood, her beauty seemed even more pronounced. Her personality didn't seem to have changed much either. She was still her usual anti-social self, not laughing along with the rest of the class, and her severity that easily kept everyone at bay was still there.

Given that, the cause of my surprise was entirely due to my own wrong assumptions.

While I was away, I had morphed my mental image of Sachiko-san into that of my ideal woman. I had expected that her sharp parts would soften, that her maturity would give birth to tenderness and that she would become a gentle and elegant lady like the Virgin Mary.

But people don't change that easily. Or maybe they do.

"Were we in the same class before?"

When I saw her in the classroom and called out to her, with a single sentence she shattered and blew away my ten years of imagination.

She didn't remember.

Of course, I didn't have the sort of physical appearance that you'd take one look at and never forget, and other than the swing incident I hadn't done anything to stand out during kindergarten. Nonetheless, I hadn't even considered that she would have forgotten me. I thought there must have been something that made my short, 140cm tall self stand out from the rest of the students.

At any rate, I had to start from scratch and once more build up a relationship with Sachiko-san. But because my initial attempt at a reunion was crushed, I found it hard to be proactive. Once more, it felt like there wasn't a single gap in her armor that would allow me to get close to her.

Pitifully, the only things I could say to her were formalities like 'Gokigenyou,' or 'Please pass the printouts to the back.'

Before long, the seating order was changed and the number of words we exchanged dropped dramatically. Then Sachiko-san was chosen to be Rosa Chinensis en bouton's petit soeur and she drifted further and further away.

We had come full circle.

I spent my time watching Sachiko-san.

The ties of our relationship from ten years ago weren't strong enough to build a new relationship on top of.

It had been an illusion.

That the Sachiko-san that waved to me from the bus had felt a spark of friendship was probably my imagination. I had thought that if I hadn't had to move away and had spent the next day with her, and then the next, that we would definitely have become good friends. But Sachiko-san probably didn't see it that way.

While I chased after the grown-up version of the kindergartener Sachiko-san, the days passed by. Because of my inconspicuous presence I was able to get along well with most of my classmates. There were interesting lessons and boring lessons, but overall it was enjoyable.

I didn't join any clubs, nor were there any older students I was particularly close with, so it was only natural that I didn't find an onee-sama. But, I didn't really want one either. My thoughts have never turned to the older students.

When we started the second semester in the new year, one of our classmates was no longer with us.

She didn't say goodbye, but when the winter break was over her desk was no longer in the classroom.

People's impression of her ranged from 'a conspicuous presence' to 'someone with no presence whatsoever.' I lent more to the latter and, because I hadn't been too interested in her, only learnt that she had been close with Rosa Gigantea en bouton after she had transferred.

Before my very eyes, someone had disappeared.

In the beginning she would come up in conversation, but as we were swept along by our busy everyday life it wasn't long until she was completely forgotten.

This time I was standing on the side of those left behind and I felt that keenly.

Part 4.

Why didn't I accept Sachiko-san's offer back then when she asked if she could help me?

"Well, okay" – why couldn't I say such a simple phrase.

For two years now, we've studied together in the same classroom. How many chances have I had to get close to Sachiko-san?

The truth is, there must have been countless opportunities. Like today. But I couldn't make the most of them. I let those chances slip through my fingers.

I was afraid of getting close to Sachiko-san.

I kept thinking about that time she rejected me.

By treating her coolly, I imagined I could avoid a second such heartbreaking experience.

But during sleepless nights.

That was when I saw Sachiko-san.

Unannounced, those feelings would suddenly enter into my mind.

Occasionally, as I lay there, I would come to hate Sachiko-san. Of course, it was never because she had done something wrong. I knew it was just a sudden outburst of anger on my part, but I still got annoyed by what I saw as the unfairness of it all.

Unable to think about anything else, I would slip into self-loathing.

It was like that one year ago.

Last year on Valentines Day.

In my bag I had a neatly wrapped box of chocolates. They were exactly the same as those given to a dear friend eleven years ago, when returning her handkerchief.

I hadn't yet worked up the courage to hand them to her. I was hoping that these would act as a cue, and Sachiko-san would recall what happened so long ago.

I ran through this simulation over and over again in my head.

I tinkered with my daydream until it was just right, requiring minimal effort to reach a good end. Within my own tiny body I became a god.

There were many opportunities to hand over the chocolates. But I found it hard to spring into action. Being in the same class seemed like it would make it easier, but on the contrary it made it harder to decide when to act.

About 30 minutes into the lunch break, there was a sudden ruckus in the hallway that ran alongside the classroom. Because it was the middle of February, and still very cold, the doors at the front and rear were both closed.

One of my classmates was a bundle of curiosity and went out to have a look. She returned all excited and said:

"Sachiko-san, something huge is happening."

The commotion was caused by the mass of students that had come to give chocolates to Sachiko-san.

" –– "

We were lost for words.

The girls who had come to give her chocolates were all lined up in single file, waiting by the door. It was unheard of for a first year to be bombarded with chocolates in this manner, but what was even more remarkable was that there were second and third year girls in the queue as well.

I was frankly shocked that I could be pigeon-holed with the rest of them. I had thought that I was being unique. That I was being audacious by giving chocolates to Sachiko-san.

But, thinking about it, I probably wasn't alone in idolizing Sachiko-san. Just as I was feeling good about it, and thinking about taking my place at the end of the queue.

"What's your business here?"

Sachiko-san said, after she had been urged by her classmates to go to the front of the waiting queue. The students lined up in the hall were standing motionless, not taking a single step inside the classroom as though there was an invisible barrier at the door.

"Umm, here."

The student at the head of the queue held out a cute, crimson package. She was from the class next door.

"…"

A full ten seconds elapsed in silence before Sachiko-san asked, "What's the meaning of this?"

Having presented her valentine with chocolates, any fool could guess what was happening. She probably had to muster all her courage just to come here, even now her face was blushing, and if Sachiko-san kept this up it looked like she would burst into tears at any moment. And because she was first in line, it probably meant she had been here since the start of the lunch break.

"It's chocolates. Umm, today's Valentines Day …. You know."

I'm sure she didn't have to say that. Sachiko-san was already well aware. What Sachiko-san had been asking was, 'Why are you giving these to me?'

The girl at the head of the queue whispered something else in response, to which Sachiko-san responded clearly:

"I'm sorry, but I cannot accept these."

She had probably raised her voice so that it could be heard clearly all the way at the back of the line.

Her rationale for refusing was simple. "Because I have no reason to take them."

Just like that, Sachiko-san turned down everyone's chocolate. She was ruthlessly consistent; some classmates who hadn't witnessed what happened were asked to pass on chocolates from other girls, but they were steadfastly refused and had to turn around and take them straight back to the original senders. Of the items placed in her shoe box during breaks, those which had the name and class of the sender written clearly on them were returned directly. For those that did not, she taped a notice to her shoe box saying that the chocolates inside would be thrown out after three days and left them alone. As a result, on the morning of the third day there were no chocolates left inside.

While I thought she was pretty cool, I also felt she was being quite harsh.

As for me, when confronted by such dreadful behavior, my thoughts of giving her chocolates withered instantaneously.

Even now, exactly one year after it happened, I still think about it from time to time.

Maybe if I had joined that line and clearly conveyed a reason why she should take them, Sachiko-san would have accepted my chocolates.

On that final day at kindergarten, Sachiko-san had accepted the chocolates.

I desperately wanted a reason for her to gladly accept them. But finding one was far more difficult than I thought.

Part 5.

Which brings us to this year's Valentine's Day.

I was confident that the same scene from last year would repeat itself again this year. Actually, until I arrived at school it felt just like deja-vu, as though I was tracing out exactly the same course as last year.

Three days earlier, I had gone to a department store to buy a small box of milk chocolates from a certain chocolate maker that my mother liked.

At this time of year, the shops are all packed.

Places that are crowded at the best of times put up special displays that contain tiny shops from chocolate makers that you've never heard of or don't usually visit. The crowding is especially bad in the evening, when office ladies and female students congregate, making you feel as though you're standing on a platform during rush hour. It's even worse around famous chocolate makers, where they have to resort to handing out numbered cards in order to deal with all the customers.

Ordinarily, if a traditional rice cracker maker were to come out with a chocolate coated rice cracker it would be enough to make you want to cry. The mismatch between that and the brand's traditions would be too great. But even they probably don't want to get left behind during this holiday season.

Partly as camouflage, I bought chocolates for my father and two others. I used the excuse that he might be working late to give my father his chocolates in the morning. Giving them to him after he had received a lot of obligatory gift chocolates from his subordinates at work would diminish their value. Overjoyed that the first chocolates he received were from his only daughter, my father offered to drop me off at school on his way to work. Taking advantage of his offer, I arrived at school at quite an early hour.

As I got out of the car in front of the school gates, I saw a black car had also pulled up slightly ahead of us. I supposed it was someone like me, a student at Lillian's that had been given a lift by a family member. The morning peak of students arriving at school was nowhere to be seen just yet, but it wasn't unheard of that someone would arrive at this early hour. Even so, it was somewhat out of the ordinary; usually you'd only get here at this hour if you had something like club practice or preparation for the school festival, or if you were carrying numerous or heavy bags.

As though the student had already been dropped off, the idling car pulled away from the curb. I thanked my father and got out of the car. Maybe it was because the roads were empty, but it took an hour less than usual. The train must take a considerable detour on the way from my house to school. Given that, it would have been better to stay in the small house we lived in when I was in kindergarten – although there's no point in saying that now.

As I jogged past the school gate I saw a figure ahead of me wearing a green dress with an ivory collar – as I had expected it was a student at Lillian's Girls Academy.

At that time I hadn't yet discovered that the figure was Sachiko-san. Although after seeing the car pull away, I probably did have a faint glimmer of expectation. They had probably traded in their cars numerous times during the intervening years, but the car I had just seen had a very similar air about it to the one that Sachiko-san had used so many years ago. I don't know of any student other than Ogasawara Sachiko-san that it would be fitting for such a car to deliver.

"Sa...."

I aborted my attempt to call out to her.

Because I was her classmate, I could have greeted her with "Gokigenyou" and then we could have walked to class together. No matter how much of a big shot she was, we still studied together in the same room. So it wasn't as though I couldn't call out to her.

I don't really understand why I did what I did myself.

Having missed my chance to call out to her I became like a stalker, keeping myself completely concealed as I followed after her.

Sachiko-san stopped in front of Maria-sama and prayed. After offering up a brief prayer she raised her head and set off walking again.

The fork in the path. If you take the path to the right, it will take you to the auditorium and chapel, and then on to the martial arts building and the pool. The left-hand path runs parallel to the library, and if you followed that you would see the high school buildings.

Usually, we took the left-hand path. If you did take the right-hand path, you could get to the school buildings by taking the correct path at the next fork in the road, but it was a fairly large detour. But for some reason, Sachiko-san took the right-hand path. Out of habit I stopped to offer up a perfunctory prayer to Maria-sama, then followed after her.

I wondered where she was going.

Because she doesn't belong to any clubs, I didn't think she was going somewhere because of a morning training session. At first I thought she might have been going to meet Rosa Foetida en bouton, Hasekura Rei-san, at the martial arts building, but they see each other every day and I couldn't think of a reason why she would need to see her before school started.

That was when I remembered about today's festivities. That is, the event organized by the newspaper club wherein we have to search for the treasure hidden by the Roses' en boutons.

I had wanted to laugh it off as being typical of Minako-san, but found that hard to do. In one of the stories involving Sachiko-san, they said that the winners would receive a present from the boutons. After the rumor that it was a ticket for a half-day date, my heart couldn't keep still.

I was surprised that Sachiko-san went along with the plan. After seeing her attitude last year, I expected she would absolutely refuse. To put it in Sachiko-san's words, "Why are you looking for treasure?" followed by "Why are we going on a date?" I guess it was about then that I came to my conclusion.

(A treasure hunt, huh)

It hit me like a flash of lightning. Sachiko-san was probably going to discuss the plans for today with Rei-san. That was also the reason why they had chosen a time that wouldn't draw attention to themselves. Rosa Gigantea en bouton, Toudou Shimako-san would probably be there too. The three must have agreed to meet at the martial arts building.

But then Sachiko-san suddenly stopped.

She seemed to have stopped right in front of the old greenhouse. She was a bit off course if she was heading towards the martial arts building.

Sachiko-san surveyed her surroundings. I quickly hid behind a tree in case she looked my way.

My heart was thumping, wondering if I'd been discovered. But after swiveling her head back and forth as though she was watching out for something, Sachiko-san gave a sigh of relief by the door. It was okay. I still hadn't been seen.

At times like that I was thankful for my short stature. Also when I'm able to still fit into the cute clothes and shoes made by children's clothes makers.

Sachiko-san slipped into the greenhouse. Before opening the door, she gave her bag a tight squeeze.

The greenhouse.

Even though I was acting dangerously like a stalker, there was no way I had the audacity to walk into the greenhouse. If I got any closer than this, I'd be discovered.

The greenhouse was so old that the glass was broken in places, but the space inside it seemed to be isolated from the rest of the outside world. Taking even a single step inside was a conscious action. Were Sachiko-san to inquire as to the reason why I had come into the greenhouse, I would have no answer.

I stayed outside and quietly peeked in. Up ahead was the school's back gate, so even if Sachiko-san saw me I wouldn't look completely out of place. I hadn't even been able to confirm if Rei-san and Shimako-san were also there.

After about ten minutes, Sachiko-san came out of the greenhouse. Alone, she looked around after exiting just like she did a short while ago but she didn't seem to notice me, as I was on the opposite side of the greenhouse to the entrance.

After that, Sachiko-san walked off towards the school buildings, as though she was making her way to school from the back gate. Naturally, she didn't turn around to look back at the greenhouse even once.

I agonized over whether I should follow Sachiko-san or look inside the greenhouse before deciding on the latter. Sachiko-san was probably going to head straight to our classroom. And then prepare for another day at school like usual.

(In that case)

I wasn't able to contain my curiosity. What had Sachiko-san been doing inside there? Once I started thinking about it, I couldn't stop.

Someone might still be inside. Even still, they definitely wouldn't be Sachiko-san, so it would probably be okay. At that moment, there was no one who was more frightening to me than Sachiko-san.

When I entered the greenhouse, the atmosphere changed.

There was no one else there.

The rays of the morning sun pouring through the glass had the same kind of solemnity as a stained glass window, but without the color.

I walked back and forth inside the greenhouse, searching for a clue. No matter what, I wanted to find out what Sachiko-san had been doing in here.

And then, that's when I found it. It had been about ten minutes since I first entered the greenhouse.

"This is – "

In the old greenhouse, the floorboards had been torn up and there was a flowerbed with plants growing out of the bare earth. In here, I saw something that looked slightly unusual. There were traces that a hole had been dug up and filled in next to the base of some shrub that I didn't know the name of.

It had been carefully filled in, but the surface of the ground was damp. It was as though it had just been completed this very minute. The smell of fresh soil hung in the air.

My heart was thumping with curiosity as I felt the area with my hand. As expected, the ground was soft.

I had a look around and spotted a gardening trowel sitting on top of one of the racks that held pots. Using this, I started to dig. There was no hesitation. Nor was there any sense of guilt. There was only desperation. All I wanted was to expose Sachiko-san's secret.

After digging down about ten centimeters, it felt as though the trowel was sliding against something and, in the end, a plastic bag appeared.

Inside it was the crimson card. From a single glance I could tell that this was the treasure for today's treasure hunt.

I brushed the dirt off it and, in a daze, put it in my bag. I wasn't composed enough to think about what you would call that sort of behavior. My judgment had regressed to that of a child's – I saw something I wanted and grabbed it without thinking.

I put the dirt back where it came from, and left the greenhouse as though I was fleeing.

With that, the crimson card would not be found. I would hold onto it until the end, and not hand it over to anyone.

My heart pounded with excitement.

Part 6.

The crimson card was like a joker.

It was entirely up to me how I used it to alter the outcome of today's treasure hunt.

Even so, I still didn't have any definite thoughts about how I should use the crimson card. I didn't have the nerve to innocently present a card that I hadn't legitimately found to the Rose Mansion.

But I did get a slight sense of superiority out of it.

Today, the only thing my classmates were talking about was the Valentine's Day treasure hunt.

Because Sachiko-san, who had to hide one of the treasures, was in the same class as us the conversation naturally turned that way. Everyone, regardless of whether they were participating in the event or not, voiced their opinion about where she had hidden her treasure. During the lunch break, amongst the crowd of students who came to give chocolates to someone in the class there were also some who came to watch Sachiko-san. They were probably planning on following her if she left to hide her card.

But Sachiko-san didn't move.

Perfectly understandable, considering she had already hidden her treasure. And it had already been unearthed.

During the lunch break, Sachiko-san was called to the hallway a number of times. There weren't as many as last year, but there were still students wanting to give her chocolates this year too. They were all first years who hadn't heard about her bad behavior last year. Ignorance is bliss.

Even so, Sachiko-san seemed to be much gentler in her rejection of the chocolates this year when compared to last year. Maybe she had matured, or maybe her anger was proportional to the number of chocolates.

Then again, when Sachiko-san accidentally stumbled upon a student who was trying to give the same chocolates that she had refused to Hasekura Rei-san, with only the name on the card changed, her temper flared. You can't help but think that people who first decide they want to give chocolates on Valentines Day, and then try to find someone to give those chocolates to, are putting the cart before the horse.

I watched the patterns of Valentines Day relationships with cool indifference.

But as the end of the school day approached, my indecision grew.

Little by little, I started to realize the magnitude of the crime I had committed.

The angel inside me said that even now, there was still time. That I could go to the greenhouse and bury the card.

The devil inside me whispered that it would be such a waste to let the card that I had worked so hard to get slip from my grasp.

Besides, if I returned the card, what would become of me?

Would I return to how I was this morning, before I got my hands on the card?

That wouldn't happen. – The answer was obvious.

Time can't be undone. My memories won't be completely erased.

(I won't reclaim my innocence by burying the card)

I thought that this was divine punishment.

By taking hold of the card, I had lost the ability to enjoy the treasure hunt.

I can continue to hold onto this card and not let anyone else near it, or I can return it to where it came from and withdraw from the treasure hunt. Those were the two paths that remained open to me.

Part 7.

Instead, I hesitated.

With the treasure hunt beginning, I still hadn't decided how to proceed.

At the time the game started, I quietly slipped in amongst the crowd of participants in the courtyard and took a registration form. On the reverse side of the registration form there was a map, with the greenhouse drawn inconspicuously in a corner.

Sachiko-san stood in the middle of the trio of boutons.

I glanced at her discreetly. But Sachiko-san didn't look at me at all.

Tsukiyama Minako-san from the newspaper club explained the rules, but I didn't take any notice of them. My mind was concentrating on the contents of the handbag that was hanging from my left hand. The crimson card in there continued to silently condemn me.

Right before the start, the bouton's soeurs were called to the front.

I scrutinized Sachiko-san's petit soeur, Fukuzawa Yumi.

I had always thought of her as an innocuous girl, with nothing special about her. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't understand why Sachiko-san had chosen her as her petit soeur.

I had no doubt that there had to be something about her that made Sachiko-san choose her. This was something that I'd been thinking about since the day after the school festival.

Her grades were average, her appearance could be described as ordinary rather than beautiful, she was taller than me but if pressed you'd say she was short and there wasn't anything special about her build, being neither obese nor overly skinny.

In short, I still hadn't found an answer. My first impression of her as someone who was somewhat lacking in composure still hadn't changed.

With the bouton's soeurs given their five minute handicap, the treasure hunt started.

I made myself as inconspicuous as possible as I slipped away from the crowd and then headed to the old greenhouse. The greenhouse was empty, so apparently no one had noticed it drawn off to the side of the map. The martial arts building was in a similar position, but because it was the location of Rei-san's club activities I could see a stream of people rushing there through the cracked windows.

Returning to the same old spot, the ground that I had dug up and then filled in this morning was much drier, making it look far less obvious. If you didn't know about it beforehand, you wouldn't notice it.

I used the trowel to dig at that location. I was thinking that I should put the card back.

But in reality, I was still hesitating.

I was thinking that there was no way anybody would find it hidden in this place. And in that case, I might as well just hold on to it.

But would that really be okay, I wondered.

I didn't know.

Not knowing what I should do, I put back the soil I had dug up. The ground was blurred by my tears.

I wondered what I was doing in this place.

I wondered if this was supposed to be my revenge on Sachiko-san for not remembering me.

All I had wanted was for her to look back at me.

All I had wanted was for her to acknowledge my existence.

I didn't know what I should do.

I could no longer move.

I was imprisoned in this old greenhouse together with the crimson card.

Part 8.

"Ah"

That person burst into the greenhouse.

I turned around, surprised.

"Gokigenyou. I'm sorry, I seem to have startled you."

"Not at all."

The surprise wasn't that someone had burst into the greenhouse. It was that the person was Fukuzawa Yumi. Why is she here? Having shut myself away in the dark recesses of my mind, for a moment I didn't understand what was happening. But when I saw the map she was holding, it all came back to me.

"Yumi-san, are you here to look for the card?"

"Yeah. You too?"

She probably doesn't know who I am. And she definitely doesn't know that I already have Sachiko-san's card.

Because of this, she's able to smile so openly. Quite normally, like a happy little girl.

"I got here just before you came in, but do you really think it's in here?"

I wanted to see if I could trick her into saying something.

I thought this was a place that nobody would search.

Since Yumi had taken so long to come here, it probably meant she hadn't known about the greenhouse beforehand.

In that case, there was no need for me to be worried. If Sachiko-san had let it slip, then she was just as guilty as I was.

I felt strangely at ease. My own crime was unchanged. But if the people around me were sinners as well, I wouldn't be alone in holding these feelings of guilt.

"Well – "

Yumi-san walked further into the greenhouse. What could she be thinking? Hurriedly she approached that spot where the ground had been dug up and refilled.

"I knew it."

She called out as she arrived there.

The place where the floorboards had been torn up and a flowerbed was growing from the dirt.

"What is it, Yumi-san?"

I followed her over and asked.

"I think it's probably here."

Yumi-san suddenly plunged both of her hands into the soil and started digging a hole.

"Umm, Yumi-san."

I called out to her numerous times, but she couldn't hear me as she kept frantically digging. Eagerly, with her bare hands.

I thought she looked just like a dog. But I couldn't smile at that. I knew that I could never dig so enthusiastically, no matter what the cause.

I had no doubt now that Yumi-san had figured out this location on her own. Her eyes were full of the pure thrill of the hunt. Completely different to me.

"If you want to, you can help out."

Yumi-san offered, without resting her hands.

"If we find it, we can hand it in together."

(Huh....?)

I couldn't believe my ears.

I knew it wasn't going to happen, but suppose for argument's sake that the card did appear – there's no doubt that it would belong to Yumi-san. Why would she offer half of the credit to someone who just happened to be present? There are limits to how generous you can be.

Despite this, I kept the card she expected to find hidden. While I was contemplating whether or not I should return it, I had wrapped it up in the map and was holding it under my arm.

I held the trowel over Yumi-san's shoulder and offered it to her. It was breaking my heart to watch someone so gallant. The longer I allowed her to continue digging without finding anything, the dirtier I felt.

"But I don't think you're going to find it there."

I squeezed the words out.

"Huh?"

Instantly, Yumi-san blinked her eyes and opened her mouth, flabbergasted. Then she looked at me with an expression that said 'Why do you think that?'

"Because I was the one that dug up the ground and filled it back in."

"Huh!?"

I'd said too much, and now I had to explain myself to her.

"I'm sorry I took so long to tell you. Actually, I dug up the ground right here just before you arrived."

"No way …"

Yumi-san looked from the pile of dirt she had excavated, to the hole she had dug, and then to the trowel before letting out a sigh. It looked as though she had believed what I said.

Relieved, I inquired:

"Hey. Why did you think it was here, Yumi-san?"

"Why do you ask?"

"When you entered the greenhouse, you came straight here, right? So I thought you must have had some reason for doing that."

I had to know, no matter what. If she hadn't been told about it beforehand, what possible reason could she have for searching in this particular spot.

Other than Yumi-san, not a single person had come here.

"Ahh, that's because."

Yumi-san pointed at the small, leafy plant that was growing next to where the card had been buried and spoke.

"This rose is called Rosa Chinensis."

The rose title that seemed like a part of Sachiko-san.

"… I see."

I'd lost. Completely and utterly.

Today was the first time that I'd been inside this greenhouse. This was the first I'd heard that Rosa Chinensis was growing in the school.

At any rate, there was no way I would have been able to find the card by myself.

"Then, why were you digging here?"

Unexpectedly, it was Yumi-san that had caught me out with a pointed question.

"That's because … The color of the dirt was slightly different, so I thought there might be something there."

"Really!?"

Upon hearing that, Yumi-san once more took up the trowel and started to dig. Confident that the card was buried here somewhere, she was going to dig an even deeper hole.

I thought I had no choice left but to tell her the truth. If it hadn't been for me, Yumi-san would have definitely been the rightful winner of the game and owner of the crimson card.

But I didn't have the courage.

With her back to me, I thought to offer her the card many times, but in the end I couldn't go through with it.

Why did it have to come to this, with me lacking the strength of will to be honest with her.

It was only after she'd dug down about 20cm that Yumi-san finally gave up.

Looking at my watch, it was just after 4:35pm. No matter how you looked at it, it was already too late. The rule was that you had to bring the card to the Rose Mansion within the time limit to be recognized as the winner.

Instead of confessing my sins I helped Yumi-san fill in the hole.

From there we washed our hands at the tap inside the greenhouse and stepped out of the greenhouse together.

The announcement that the game had finished was being broadcast, but I couldn't go to the courtyard with Yumi-san.

"Yumi-san, please go on ahead of me."

Until now I had only been vaguely aware of the students searching around outside, but they started to appear in dribs and drabs as they walked towards the school buildings.

"Well, I'll take my leave then."

"Gokigenyou."

As I watched Yumi-san walk away, I undid the ribbon in my hair. I understood, just a little bit.

Yumi-san had something that I didn't.

And Sachiko-san definitely had an eye for people.

Part 9.

In the end, I went back into the greenhouse and buried the card in its original location.

Later, I heard from one of my friends in Fuji class about Kanina Shizuka-san's fleeting desire to get closer to Rosa Gigantea. How Shizuka-san had run in the student council election just because she wanted Rosa Gigantea to look at her.

Like her, I too wanted to attract the attention of someone who was unaware of my existence.

In order to avoid being hurt, I've always kept myself in a position of safety, only watching on. But by doing that, my feelings aren't communicated.

I've always loved Sachiko-san.

So even if I'm rejected, it's okay.

Even being cut down would be a step up.

Instead of hiding her card, or being angry about things long forgotten, I would have been better off talking to her every so often so that she would remember me.

But there still might be time.

Even the crimson card was peacefully reclaimed.

So I've decided to try a bit harder.

I'll call out to her from time to time, and when she offers to lend a hand I'll politely accept.

Little by little, doing these everyday things.

Now that Valentine's Day is over, the high school buildings are filled with conversations about the bouton's dates.

"Ahh, onee-sama."

As our class was returning from the home economics classroom, we were approached from the opposite direction by Yumi-san.

"Umm, it's about this Sunday."

"Sunday? Ah, just a minute.... I'm terribly sorry, but could you go ahead without me?"

Because the latter part was addressed to us, I asked Sachiko-san if I should look after her sewing box.

"Will that be okay?"

"Of course. I'll leave it on your desk."

As we slowly passed by, Yumi-san bowed to us.

She had a somewhat strange look on her face, but we kept walking.

"They suit each other well, those soeurs."

I was smiling as we walked away.

"Huh?"

One of my classmates asked.

"It's nothing."

I shook my head.

As expected, Yumi-san didn't recognize me with my new haircut.

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