Maria-sama ga Miteru:Volume11 Chapter3 1

Milk Tea, Oolong Tea. Part 1

"Welcome."

A refined, white-haired elderly woman opened the wooden door and invited Yumi in.

"I was having an afternoon nap, when I got the feeling that a visitor would be coming soon. So I prepared some tea and waited. Hehehe, I was right on the money. I'm so glad."

"Huh?"

She took a bewildered Yumi by the hand and ushered her into the garden.

Of course, since she was standing in front of that door, Yumi had been intending to go inside. The moment she'd knocked on the door it had opened from the other side, and before she had a chance to state the reason for her visit she'd been dragged inside, so she was mildly flustered.

It was like a fairytale, where she'd just been caught by the wicked witch.

"Ah, umm – "

She had said, "A visitor." Yumi was getting a bit anxious, wondering if she'd been mistaken for someone else, when the old lady said:

"I know. You're Kei-san's friend's friend."

She tapped her index finger against her nose.

"Kei-san's friend's friend … "

In that case, there was no mistake. Yumi had come here because of the debt she owed to Katou-san from that rainy day.

It was Saturday, and the sun's rays were shining between the clouds for the first time in a while.

The reason Yumi had come all the way to Kei-san's house, when Kei-san went to Lillian's University, was because she knew from personal experience the difficulty of finding someone on campus.

Since Yumi had made the fundamental mistake of failing to get Kei-san's phone number when she had the chance, she had no way to get in touch and organize somewhere to meet.

"Kei-san's not in right now. So why don't you come and have a chat with me in the main building."

The elderly lady opened the glass sliding door that faced the garden and beckoned Yumi inside. While Yumi was still wondering what she should do, the old woman rushed inside, saying, "Oh no, the water's boiling over," and Yumi was drawn in behind her. Using the sliding door made Yumi think of entering through a window, which took her back to her childhood.

"… Pardon my intrusion."

The room was a living room, with tatami mats on the floor.

Black posts in white mortar walls. In this austere Japanese style room there was a Western table, and lace curtains hung from the wood-framed windows. By the window, there was an old looking rocking chair, and a floral patterned cushion gently swayed.

"The kettle's boiled over, and it looks like we just avoided an accident with the gas."

It wasn't a laughing matter, but the elderly lady seemed to be smiling with delight as she entered the living room. The light brown floral apron matched well with her white hair, and although it may be rude to say this about someone much older, she looked really cute.

"Have a seat in any old chair."

"Okay."

So Yumi sat down in the nearest chair. Strictly speaking, one of the chairs would be the head of the table, but since the room was a blend of Japanese and Western styles, Yumi couldn't determine which was which.

"Would milk tea be okay?"

"Umm, please don't go out of your way on account of me."

Yumi was fairly certain that this was the landlady, but she left a quite different impression compared to the first visit.

"I apologize for the other day. I'm not at my best when it's rainy."

"Uh, okay. Um, it was no problem."

It seemed that, once again, her thoughts had been read by someone else. Yumi was getting flustered, and the elderly lady smiled and placed a teacup in front of her.

"Thank-you."

As Yumi said this, she suddenly remembered, and diverted the hand that had been reaching out for the teacup towards her bag. She'd forgotten something vital.

"The other day, I suddenly imposed on you – "

Putting on a meek expression, Yumi held out a prettily wrapped box that was about the size of a sewing kit.

"Oh my."

"My mother sends her thanks."

"How courteous. But, I didn't do anything. You should be giving those to Kei-san instead."

"No, I have another one for Katou-san."

Yumi pressed the box forwards, offering them to the elderly woman, who faithfully accepted them with a, "Well, in that case," and opened the wrapping.

"How delightful. Maple Parlor baked cookies. These will go well with milk tea. If you'll just wait a minute, we can eat these together."

She took two of the individually wrapped cookies and placed them on Yumi's saucer. Chocolate and plain. They were both Yumi's favorite.

"May I inquire as to your name?"

"Ah, it's Yumi. I'm Fukuzawa Yumi."

"My, what a wonderful coincidence."

The old lady clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling.

"I'm a Yumi too. But with 'ko' at the end."

The landlady said her name was Ikegami Yumiko, and that she was a graduate of Lillian's. And just like that, they established a good rapport, and started calling each other, "Yumi-san," and "Yumiko-san." If they were strictly following tradition, then it should have been "Yumiko-sama," but the person in question said that she preferred "Yumiko-san."

"You seem to come from a good family, Yumi-san."

Yumiko-san remarked, as she unwrapped a cookie.

"Ah, not at all. I come from a long line of commoners."

Yumi hastily shook her head. It wasn't just humility, the Fukuzawa lineage was exceedingly ordinary.

"I wasn't talking about wealth or prestige or anything like that. What I meant was you have conscientious parents who have raised a well-mannered daughter."

"Oh … is that so?"

Yumi wasn't often praised like that, so she didn't quite know how to react. Part of the reason was that Lillian's Girls Academy was a gathering spot for well-trained daughters of high class families, and students of Yumi's caliber were run-of-the-mill, so weren't necessarily valued as highly. As for her parents, well it wasn't that they weren't conscientious, but they weren't particularly strict either – they were just normal parents.

"Perhaps people are just unable to see the true value of what they possess."

"Hmmm … "

What did she mean by 'the true value of what she possessed?' Before Yumi started to grapple with the question itself, first she posed it as a reading comprehension problem. "In 100 words, explain the meaning of the phrase the elderly lady in front of you just said." But even when put like that, she couldn't derive the correct answer.

While Yumi was thinking about this, Yumiko-san chuckled.

"May I say something about my impression of you, Yumi-san?"

"Yes?"

"You're incredibly earnest. In your student handbook, you've probably got approval from your homeroom teacher for your visit here, right?"

"–"

Bingo. But rather than earnestness, that was simply cowardice.

When she'd visited the other day, it hadn't been planned, and it was done primarily to get out of the rain, so she hadn't sought permission. But with a planned visit, she would have felt nervous if she hadn't got permission. Scared that someone would challenge her.

Because it was completely different to stopping at the train station's book store. She was visiting someone's house, carrying a box of cookies.

"You must be popular with the older students."

"I'm not so sure."

"Then, the younger students?"

"No, not really."

When Yumi heard 'younger students,' she pictured Touko-chan's face.

"Really?"

Yumi-san smiled as she sipped her tea.

"You have an onee-sama?"

"Onee-sama … "

"Oh, perhaps that's something I shouldn't ask about."

Yumiko-san asked, her expression that of a child who had done something wrong, when she saw Yumi struggling for words.

"It's nothing like that. Currently, you could say we're quarreling, there's been a bit of a misunderstanding – "

Yumi hid that they were on the brink of collapse. It wasn't something she wanted to talk about with other people, and just putting it into words would likely bring tears along too.

Sometimes it's helpful to talk about problems with someone else, but there's also things that are made even tougher by putting them into words.

If she were to utter the words, "Some day I may no longer be Sachiko-sama's petit soeur," then it felt like that day would come sooner.

"Do you like your onee-sama?"

Yumiko-san asked, out of the blue.

"Yes."

Despite the sudden question, Yumi answered without stopping to think. Setting aside all the extraneous questions, like, "What's Sachiko-sama thinking?" or, "What about Touko-chan?" and thinking purely about Sachiko-sama, Yumi still liked her.

"Then in that case, it'll all be fine."

"Huh?"

"As long as you like your onee-sama, things between you will return to normal. After all, she was somebody that you chose."

"I chose her?"

Not "was chosen by her", but "chose her?"

"Right. She was somebody that you chose. She's not going to be so foolish as to let go of you."

"I think you're really overestimating me."

Yumi smiled, shrugging her shoulders. But Yumiko-san had a serious expression, like a prophet, as she said:

"Have some more confidence. There's hardly anyone who could grow to hate you, Yumi-san."

"That's not true."

Touko-chan had said, "Despicable," and, "I misjudged you." She hadn't been acting. That had been her true face.

"When you're told something harsh, even by someone who likes you, it can come as a bit of a shock."

Yumiko-san said, when Yumi accidentally let her complaint slip out.

"Perhaps that girl's jealous of you."

"Jealous?"

Such incredible positive thinking. It was only because she didn't know Touko-chan's character that she could say something like that.

"There's a chemistry to human relationships, and people who don't hit it off together draw away from each other. Spontaneously."

"Really?"

"When you care for someone, there are times when you have to speak strongly to them. But it can be difficult to see that – "

Yumiko-san had a faraway look in her eyes as she spoke. Like the video's pause button had been pressed, her finger remained lightly touching the rim of her teacup, without even a slight tremor.

"Yu-Yumiko-san?"

Growing uneasy, Yumi called out, and Yumiko-san snapped out of it, like someone coming out of hypnosis.

"Ah, I'm sorry. Some very old emotions were brought back, just now."

"I was a bit surprised."

Yumi clutched her chest. She'd half suspected that it had been a heart-attack, or a stroke, or something like that. After all, Yumiko-san was quite elderly.

"They're memories of when I wore the same uniform as you, Yumi-san. Really, we've come such a long way since then."

We.

Yumiko-san was probably speaking of herself and someone else.

"… I miss her."

Yumiko-san mumbled drowsily as she looked out the window.