Editing Maria-sama ga Miteru:Volume8 Chapter3 1 (section)

===<noinclude>Just Before Graduation. </noinclude>Part 1===

Fine weather.

Like Maria-sama's soul, the blue sky stretched on forever. They couldn't say that there wasn't a cloud in the sky, but the desire to do so was limitless.

As befitting the graduation ceremony, it truly was a "fine day."



"But even so," Youko thought, "why the heck doesn't it feel real to me?"

Even as she looked at the words, "Congratulations on Graduation," written out in large lettering on the blackboard, she couldn't help but feel like it was happening to someone else.

Sure, there were nerves. But despite being one of the main players in this fine day, it seemed like the deep emotions just couldn't soak into her. 

Feelings of solemnity and excitement welled up in her from time to time, but they never seemed quite enough.

Indeed, if pressed to say, the feeling was most similar to just before some task she had to perform. A desire to see things go smoothly, right through to the end of the ceremony.

It was a bad habit, or so she thought. No matter how much time passed, she'd never lose the mantle of "Rosa Chinensis." Even though she hadn't hesitated to slide into comfortable retirement after the election for the following year's school council. But, after all, it looked as though she herself had been the one dragging it out all the way to the end.

"Best wishes for today."

As their homeroom was drawing to a close, a few second-year students arrived carrying the white floral corsages that were the mark of the graduating seniors.

This was an annual tradition. Students from the class of the same name in the grade below would pin one to the chest of each graduating student. So these girls were from the second-year camellia group.

Youko wistfully thought back to last year when she'd been part of the group to visit the third-years. The happy job of pinning the flowers to the graduating students was a really popular one. Because of that, the six positions were decided by scissors-paper-rock between all those who wanted to take part.

(…)

Youko tilted her head to the side, reconsidering that story.

For some reason, she had no recollection of winning a place through scissors-paper-rock. Even more than that, she didn't even remember participating with the other applicants.

( – Ahh, that's it.)

Youko suddenly remembered. That memory shouldn't be there. She hadn't played scissors-paper-rock. Youko alone was an exception, her place reserved from the beginning. As the class representative, she went straight to the head of the line.

The vast majority of her classmates had wanted to pin flowers to the seniors, but hadn't wanted to be the one to lead the way. For those shy students, Youko's existence was a godsend.

– Please, Youko-san.

How many times had she been asked in that manner? Countless times, impossible to remember each and every instance.

But she didn't think she was just being used. Thanks to that, she'd been able to pin the corsage to the chest of her graduating onee-sama. Her onee-sama just happened to be in the same class as her, but in a different year. Just like Eriko and Rei now.

(Rei, huh.)

That reminded her of an interesting story she'd heard about Rei.

Apparently she was going to be one of the girls pinning flowers this year. Rei wasn't the type to nominate herself, nor was she prevailed upon by her classmates – but there were no objections when she was chosen without playing scissors-paper-rock.

Why was that?

Apparently a fervent request came through from the third-year chrysanthemum class. All the third-years wanted Mr Lillian to pin the corsage to their chest.

As Rei's onee-sama, Eriko was bound to have mixed feelings. Then again, knowing her, she was probably ecstatic about it.

"We'll now begin pinning the corsages. We'll do our very best, but we're not very practiced in this, so please forgive any clumsiness on our part."

The apparent leader announced. Youko saw it overlaid with her memory of last year. 

She was sidetracked for a moment by the word clumsiness. In other words, sorry if we stab you with the safety pin attached to the corsage. In that case, all she could do was pray for a lack of clumsiness.

"Congratulations on graduation."

The basic formation was a group of two, one to carry the basket of corsages, the other to pin them to the graduating students. These three basic formations moved from desk to desk, and it wasn't long before one such group was facing Youko.

"Congratulations, Rosa Chinensis."

They started by bowing deeply. Then, the moment she raised her head, large teardrops started falling from the eyes of the one holding the basket.

"Wh-what's the matter?"

Youko was frankly astonished. She couldn't understand what had happened in those few seconds.

"I'm so sorry."

As she spoke, the girl hastily wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

"I'm just overcome with emotion … ah."

Since she'd taken both her hands off it, it looked like it wouldn't be long until the small basket of corsages tipped over.

"She's been a fan of yours for a long time now, Rosa Chinensis."

The girl with the task of pinning the corsages explained. Then she unfastened the safety pin, gathered a loose piece of Youko's school uniform and pierced it with the safety pin. But her hands were shaking too, so she wasn't that nimble.

"Pardon me … oww."

Pricking her finger on the safety pin, it took the girl about twice as long as normal, but finally a white flower bloomed on Youko's chest.

"I'm so sorry. It looks like it's a bit crooked."

"Thanks. It's fine."

As she smiled, Youko felt like she should be the one apologizing. Because these anonymous second-years were feeling the emotions so much more keenly than Youko herself.

Even after pinning flowers to all the graduating seniors in the room, the second-years chrysanthemum students seemed reluctant to leave. For some reason, they'd gathered in a corner and were whispering to each other. Had there been some kind of accident? They were occasionally peeking into the baskets, and looked like they were counting on their fingers. This continued for a little while.

(I wonder what it is.)

Seeing that kind of a scene, even though it had nothing to do with her whatsoever, Youko couldn't help but take note of it.

(The numbers don't match … ?)

The second-years were still looking puzzled, but perhaps deciding that they were overstaying their welcome, they gave their farewell message and started to leave the classroom.

"Ah, hold on."

Youko instinctively called out.

"What is it?"

By the door, the representative who had given the speeches turned around.

"I just remembered. One of our students is out sick today with the flu. If you happen to have a corsage left over, would it be okay if I took care of it? I could give it to her along with her diploma."

Voices of agreement, saying things like, "Oh yeah," and, "That's right," came from her classmates. Everyone had been on such a high that they had completely forgotten about the absent girl.

"… So that's what it was. That's a relief – when we had one left over, we were worried that we must have mistakenly picked up another class's flowers."

The second-years' confusion was immediately resolved.

"Thank-you Rosa Chinensis, you've been a great help."

"Really, Youko-san, we can always count on you."

Youko shrugged in exasperation. Truly stunned by how, even up to the very end, she was still in full-blown meddling mode.