Template:Maria-sama Ga Miteru:Volume17 Chapter 2 6

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Happenings And Heading Out Part 6[edit]

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.

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"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.