Maria-sama ga Miteru:Volume6 Chapter5 4

The Crimson Card. 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.