Maria-sama ga Miteru:Volume25 Chapter5

Pitiable Person

Part 0

She wandered alone in the morning mist.

A gown worn over her sleep-wear. She would have put her slippers on when she got out of bed, but one of them must have caught on something because there was only one for her to take off now.

When was it lost?

Who took it?

In amongst that cloudiness, where she couldn't see more than a metre in front of her, shaking each tree trunk that appeared one after the other, she still felt she'd been left behind.

It would have been better if they were people. In that case, she might have received some sort of hint.

Blood oozing from her bare feet, she walked without pause.

There was no way she could stop until she'd retrieved her precious possession.

"– chan."

Her cry was absorbed by the mist, not even her own voice could reach her ears any more.

Where should she go?

No matter how far she walked, it felt like she was going around in circles. The visibility always remained low.

Her feet felt distant and she had no confidence that she was properly putting one foot in front of the other.

"Ah."

Eventually she tripped over a tree root, falling down onto her hands. In that pure white landscape, only the blood spilling from the palms of her hands was a vibrant red.

"I'm."

Why was it that she was doing this?

It felt like she was searching for something. But what was it?

In a daze, she sat down on a thick tree root that protruded from the ground like a branch.

There was no way she could stop until she'd retrieved her precious possession. But having just stopped, she couldn't comprehend.

What was it she was searching for?

Where was it that she thought she should go?

"I don't know."

Should she keep going forwards, or turn back?

No matter which way she chose, the mist surrounded her on all four sides, so there was no way she could be sure that what she thought was forward was in front of her, and that what was behind her was the way she had come.

"What do I do?"

While she was still perplexed.

"…?"

She could hear the sound of someone crying coming from somewhere.

"…"

It was faint, but she could definitely hear it. There was no mistaking it. She remembered her initial goal and ran in the direction of the sound.

Not even her own voice reached her ears. But despite all that. The voice grew steadily clearer, and then louder.

As though it were calling out to her. Like the shining beam from a lighthouse, guiding her way at sea.

At long last she found it.

Lying down on the fallen leaves, wrapped in pure white swaddling clothes, a tiny life-force.

"Ahh."

With trembling hands she clasped it to her breast.

She'd finally found it. They'd never be separated again.

"My … baby."

As she hugged it tight, the resistance disappeared.

The pure white swaddling clothes unraveled and what she had thought was her baby fell from her arms and pattered down on the ground.

"Ah, ah."

She frantically gathered the dry leaves that covered her knees and feet.

But they would no longer return to their original form.

"Noooo – "

Her grief-stricken cry cut through the mist.

Part 1

"Noooo – "

The shriek echoed in the dead of night.

"Mama, mama."

Touko rushed over, turning on the bedside light and shaking her mother by the shoulder until she awoke.

"Haa … haa … haa."

Ragged breathing. Her eyes were open, but she hadn't fully woken up. She'd tripped on the boundary between dreams and reality and was struggling forwards.

"It's alright. It was just a dream."

Touko stroked her mother's cheek, fixing her errant strands of hair.

"It's alright."

She repeated. Then, as though she were gradually understanding the state of affairs, her mom took a couple of deep breaths before mumbling, as though for confirmation:

"Touko-chan."

"That's right."

Touko affirmed. Then she repeated, "It's alright," once more. This one wasn't for her mother – she said it to calm herself down.

"You're really sweating."

There should be a towel somewhere in the room. When Touko stood up from the bedside, she was grabbed by her pajama sleeve.

"Don't go."

"Mama … "

Touko went back to kneeling down on the carpet.

"Don't go. Don't leave mama behind. Please."

She implored her daughter, tears in her eyes.

She was still in thrall to her dream. So she was terrified of being alone.

As she rubbed her mom's shoulder, Touko cast her gaze around the room. Her dad wasn't anywhere to be seen – the bed beside her mom was empty.

"Yeah. I'm here."

Touko had a vague idea of what her mother's dream was about.

It had happened a number of times in the last month or two. Her mom would have a nightmare and cry out in the night.

Typically it would be handled by Touko's dad, sleeping next to her mom, but there were nights like tonight when Touko came running to soothe her mother. In those cases, her mom would always say she had a terrible dream. Her words were muddied once she'd fully woken up, but while she was still confused some fragments of her dream would come tumbling out of her mouth.

– My baby's gone.

Those words were something Touko couldn't ask about. So she would let it pass, without comment.

Because her mom was someone to pity. Touko knew that it would cause trouble if she were to ask her what she meant by that.

"Where would I go? This is the only home I have."

She lost her child over and over in her dreams. So even though it was only Touko appearing in front of her, she desperately tried to cling on to her.

"It's alright."

So Touko repeated, "It's alright," over and over to get her mother to calm down. It didn't matter that it was a stopgap measure, or a mere consolation. Touko felt that it was because of this that she could control her own emotions too.

"Your next dream will be a good one."

Touko smiled as she adjusted the quilt.

"I wonder."

Touko said, "Definitely," to her anxious mom.

"I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep again, mama."

"Okay."

In the dim light of the lamp, her mom's face looked like that of a young girl, and an elderly woman.

Part 2

Leaving her parents' bedroom, she found her father there.

"Papa … "

"I'm sorry."

He was leaning against the wall next to the bedroom door, smiling at her. It looked like he'd been there for quite a while. He may have arrived not long after Touko entered their bedroom.

"It's nothing."

Touko shook her head, and put her hand on her pajama collar.

It was cold in the hall, after all. She'd come running when she heard her mother's scream, so she hadn't had time to put anything else on. The air chilled her neck.

"I'm sorry."

Her dad repeated. As though apologizing that he hadn't been there for his wife's mishap.

"I went to the toilet, then thought I'd stop in at the kitchen for a nightcap."

Touko's dad took off his dressing gown and draped it over her shoulders. His familiar smell covered her body. It was warm.

"You couldn't sleep?"

" – No."

He shook his head slightly, but Touko wasn't sure whether he was telling the truth or not. Her dad wasn't much of a drinker. He would drink at work functions, but at home he rarely touched alcohol. And a nightcap? It was hard to believe.

"Is it because of me … ?"

She said, somewhat lightheartedly, and was met with a serious expression.

"Not at all."

But her mom had been having nightmares for the past month and a half. Touko had run away from home midway through December last year, so there was no way the two were completely unrelated.

Because of her mom's instability, her dad wasn't sleeping soundly either. In that case, it could be said that her dad's insomnia was Touko's fault after all.

"Like that."

Her dad mumbled, gazing at Touko.

"You're always forcing yourself to fit in. We were so stupid, we never suspected that when you were behaving like a spoiled child, or being willful, that it was you acting the part of an innocent daughter."

He looked forlorn.

"You too, papa. You read too much into things."

It was hard on Touko, knowing that she was the one who caused him to have such an expression, when usually he covered her in a warm smile.

"I've never for a moment thought that I was forcing myself. I'm sure that was all me. My personality took that shape because that's the sort of person I wanted to be."

That was all she could say at this point.

She had been the one to destroy the balance within their family. She didn't want to tell a lie that would only patch things over on the surface.

Even if it were to be mended, it could never return to the way it was before. She didn't want things fixed if that just meant that the destruction had been in vain.

"Back then, that argument seemed to come as quite a shock to mama."

Her dad said, looking towards the bedroom.

"On the other hand, I thought it was a good thing. Because if you hadn't hit us with your feelings, we may never have known the screaming in your heart."

Touko's hands naturally moved to cover her chest, as though guided by the phrase, "the screaming in your heart."

Thinking back, it had always kind of felt like her suppressed emotions were shouting, "Let me out of here."

I'm here.

Notice me.

It's not like I can't think for myself.

I'm only pretending to not see anything, to not hear anything.

"I don't know how long you've known, but it must have been a heavy burden for you to bear alone at your age. It's better that we, your parents, carry it."

But what now, now that the dam had burst? Having spewed forth her feelings, all that remained was a large hole in her heart, and self-loathing.

The end result was that she'd driven off her mom and made her dad worry. Had it really been necessary for her to let those feelings out?

She didn't know.

Why had she said those things?

Why had she thrown out those harsh words, contrary to her feelings?

"That's why, even now, I still agree with grandpa's decision."

Touko's father looked her straight in the eye.

"You should paint your own life on a blank canvas, without worrying about anyone else … That wish of mine, it's not tossing you aside. Do you understand?"

Touko didn't respond to that. No, she wasn't able to respond.

Above all, she never doubted that her parents loved her. But, if that were the case, didn't it mean that Touko wasn't necessary.

"Papa."

Instead of responding, Touko asked a question.

"Isn't everything in this world give and take?"

"Huh?"

"Is it okay to just take and take?"

"… What are you saying?"

Her dad asked, looking perplexed.

"Touko has nothing to give back."

Taking off the dressing gown, she held it out to her father. He accepted it, then looked gently into her eyes.

"Don't be silly. Mama, grandpa, and I have already received so much from you, Touko."

"Really?"

"Of course."

Smiling at that statement, Touko walked off down the corridor.

"Touko. I'm really grateful to you."

Touko's dad called out as she walked away, then he opened the door to the bedroom where her mom was sleeping. She didn't turn around. But she could tell that he would watch over her until she returned to her own room.

Even though she was receiving so much love.

She had nothing to give back.

(We've already received so much from you, Touko.)

Her father had said there was, "so much," but she couldn't think of a single thing.

The hallway felt uncomfortably long.

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