Maria-sama ga Miteru - LightNovelsOnl.com
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As I furthered my education into university, I thought about changing my personality, to see what that would be like.
It wasn't as though I disliked who I was, or my life had become troublesome, or anything like that.
It wasn't really for any particular reason.
Maybe I was just getting a bit tired of it.
Upon reflection, it seemed like I'd been playing the role of the "accommodating honors student" for a very long time - from the time I first parted from my parents to join society at large in kindergarten. So my connection to that ident.i.ty stretched back about 12 or 13 years. It was a good fit for me, but regrettably it just went on for too long.
People amend their personality countless times over the course of their life, and occasionally they have the opportunity to change it completely. Like when they have to change schools after moving interstate, or when they enter into university, or start a new job. Starting a new life in an environment where n.o.body knows who you have been up until that point provides that chance.
Yet I'd graduated from high school without being able to do that.
When I entered into primary school, I'd been so young that I hadn't considered changing my personality.
My best chance probably came when I pa.s.sed the entrance exam for, and was accepted into, a private middle school, as there were hardly any of my former cla.s.smates from primary school there. But following the recommendation of Torii Eriko, who later became my dear friend, I accepted the position of cla.s.s representative to the student council, and any departure from that ident.i.ty was stifled. But thinking about it now, even being the "indifferent cla.s.s representative" or the "mocking cla.s.s representative" would have been better. I'd been under the mistaken impression that a cla.s.s representative had to act as some kind of mediator in the cla.s.s, so naturally I regulated my behavior. It was still a mystery to me how my personality had been so apparent to Eriko, who hadn't even been a pa.s.sing acquaintance of mine at the time.
High school was a continuation of middle school, so I was constantly surrounded by people I knew. Suddenly changing my personality would result in me being told "You're acting strange today, Youko-san," and then being taken to the school infirmary.
So I decided to turn over a new leaf, and show a different me to the new friends I made at university.
But having said that, it's no simple task to create a new personality from scratch. I decided to sample the people closest to me, and start by imitating them. The idiosyncrasies of any one person would be too much, so I went with a mixture of two people.
The nonchalance of my dear friend Satou Sei, and the friendliness of my darling grand pet.i.t soeur, f.u.kuzawa Yumi-chan.
Still, it didn't go as well as I'd imagined.
"Umm, Mizuno-san."
At lunchtime, as I was eating Set Meal B in the cafeteria, two of my cla.s.smates approached me.
"Did you go to the first-period maths lecture?"
If there had been any vulnerable male students nearby, they may have got the mistaken impression that, "Those girls like me." But their cute wave had absolutely no effect on me.
"I did, why do you ask?"
I'd spent the six years of middle and high school at an all-girls school. I had a fair idea what these girls were going to say next.
"Sorry about this, but can I take a copy of your notes?"
See, there it is.
" &h.e.l.lip; I guess that's okay."
I set down my chopsticks, took my notebook out of my largish shoulder bag and handed it over. Belatedly, I remembered to put on my smiling face. Friendly, friendly.
"Waa - you saved me. I'll copy it during the lunch break then give it back to you in cla.s.s."
The two girls hastily exited the cafeteria. I looked at the clock. It was 15 minutes until the end of the lunch break.
In order to snap the half-awake students to attention, the professor had packed the first-period maths cla.s.s densely with material, so my notes covered about four pages and mainly consisted of equations and graphs. There was no way those two would be able to transcribe all that in the remaining time.
(Obviously, photocopy.)
I let out a small sigh. If you're going to borrow my notebook until the next maths cla.s.s, how about at least writing it in your own book? Or show up to cla.s.s without makeup on, instead of spending so much time diligently applying cosmetics.
(Quit it.)
I hated my tendency to waver about these kind of things.
If it was going to annoy me, then I shouldn't lend people my notebook. If I'm going to lend people my notebook, then don't complain. I'm going to all this effort trying to change my personality. So why am I still the serious honors student?
And if I was supposed to be using Sei as my model, she probably wouldn't be the one lending the book, but the one borrowing it.
(Borrowing &h.e.l.lip; ?)
No, that would be pointless. Skipping out on a cla.s.s for no reason would just increase my stress. I stirred the remaining seaweed in vinegar with my chopsticks.
"Mizuno-san."
Hearing my name called, I looked up and saw a different cla.s.smate of mine seated across the table from me.
"You were in the first-period maths cla.s.s, right?"
"Ah, if you want my notebook, it's currently - "
I remembered just after I'd said that. She'd been in the cla.s.sroom during first period as well.
"No, I was there. So I don't need to copy your notebook."
Short, wavy hair and black gla.s.ses on a face free from makeup. Her physical appearance was completely different, but for some reason she left a similar impression to Yumi-chan.
"You're always there, Mizuno-san. At every cla.s.s. Even when they're not taking attendance, first period, fifth period, a perfect attendance record."
Talking about perfect attendance when it's still only May, I thought to myself as I struggled to come up with a response.
"I'm aware of that."
She had a perfect attendance record too. From memory, her name was Kawatou-san. She smiled as she said:
"Right. Diligence itself is admirable."
Kawatou-san counted on her fingers.
"There's also Himura-san and Tokunaga-san. Since all four of us are so diligent, why don't we become friends?"
The other two were also women. It seemed like there was also a guy with a perfect attendance record, but it seemed kind of pitiful to have four girls and only one guy, so I wasn't going to mention it.
"&h.e.l.lip; Okay?"
As I answered, I remembered. The sort of people that Himura-san and Tokunaga-san were.
Right, right. Despite Himura-san's eye-catching appearance, with an artistic hairstyle that could almost be called an afro and quite extreme make-up and fas.h.i.+on, she spoke with a quiet, subdued voice. Tokunaga-san had a rough appearance, always wearing masculine jeans and T-s.h.i.+rts. She never wore any makeup, and her face looked like a boy's, but she'd never be mistaken for a man because of her long hair that she wore in a ponytail and her surprisingly large b.r.e.a.s.t.s for such a slender frame.
"Great. It's a bit sudden, but how about today? Third period's your last, right? After that, at a cafe out front of the train station."
Kawatou-san said the name of the shop was "Mole Cafe 2" but, sadly, I'd never heard of it.
"I'll draw you a quick map later."
"Thanks."
It probably would have been better if I walked with her to this place, but apparently we were all going to meet there.
"Since we're such a diligent group, there's no alcohol. The drinking age is 20. And since we're studying law, it wouldn't be right for us to break the law, you know. Ah, unless you've already reached the legal drinking age, Mizuno-san?"
"No, I'm still underage."
"I see. You seem so calm and collected that I thought you might be older."
Calm and collected, huh. It looked like I was a long way from becoming Satou Sei or f.u.kuzawa Yumi.
"I guess we should make a reservation for the cafe."
"Ah, I'll leave that up to you then, sorry."
Back in high school, I would have offered to help out in some way, but this time around I firmly resisted.
"It's okay, don't worry about it. I'm used to that kind of thing."
"That kind of thing?"
"Being an organizer or committee member. Those kind of roles always seem to fall to me."
It looked like Kawatou-san was my compatriot, in some regards.
"Well, I've got to go. I have to talk to Himura-san and Tokunaga-san too."
"If &h.e.l.lip; "
If you just wait ten minutes, you'll see them in cla.s.s and you won't have to go looking for them, was what I was going to say to Kawatou-san, but she'd already left. Since they were so diligent, Himura-san and Tokunaga-san wouldn't miss the next cla.s.s. Probably.
The 'Mole Cafe 2' near the train station was underground. Right beside a florist there was a flight of stairs leading down to a door decorated with vines. When the quartet had fully a.s.sembled, we entered the store. However.
"Huh?"
The cafe was full. We'd arrived in time for 3 o'clock tea-time, and the cafe was full of older ladies leisurely chatting as they had tea and cake. Mole Cafe 2 had about ten tables that could seat four people.
"But I made a reservation."
Kawatou-san desperately pleaded.
"Kawatou-san, Kawatou-san &h.e.l.lip; Here it is. Four people, at 5:00."
The male employee said, looking through the reservation book.
"Not 5:00, 15:00. I said 3pm."
15:00 and 5:00. It was probably hard to tell the difference over the phone. A simple mistake. If they'd bothered to repeat the time to confirm it - well, no point saying anything about that now.
"5:00 &h.e.l.lip; hmm."
"I have a part-time job as a tutor in the evening."
The vibe coming from Himura-san and Tokunaga-san was to reschedule. I didn't really care either way, but Kawatou-san looked like she was about to burst into tears so, against my better judgment, I spoke up.
"But we wouldn't have to wait until 5:00, I'm sure a s.p.a.ce will open up sooner or later. After all, this place isn't by-reservation only."
Luckily, there weren't any other customers waiting to be seated. Ten tables is ten tables, and it's hard to think that they'd all stay there for an hour, let alone two. And there were customers that had already finished their cakes.
"Since we came all the way here, why don't we wait a while? Tokunaga-san, what time did you have to leave?"
"5pm I guess... Alright, I'll stay a bit longer."
After Tokunaga-san said this, Himura-san nodded slightly and said, "Okay," too.
"Thank-you."
Then I turned to the employee from before and said:
"Excuse me, is it alright if we take a look at the menu while we wait?"
This was done to optimize the limited time we had, but it was probably overkill. Even if I hadn't asked, Kawatou-san surely would have.
My reading of the situation had been correct, and within ten minutes we were led to a table. Since we'd already looked over the menu, the ordering process went smoothly, so in the end we didn't lose much time. Also, we were given a free plate of cookies by the manager as an apology for the mix up, and at that point we all agreed we were glad we stayed.
"I wonder if I could take mine with me."
Tokunaga-san wrapped up three of the small cookies in a paper napkin.
She'd ordered a cake-set, so it didn't appear as though she disliked sweets. Besides, if she didn't like them, she'd probably offer them to everyone else instead of taking them home as a souvenir.
"To eat with your students?"
I asked. If so, I was going to offer her my share of the cookies as well.
"Students?"
Tokunaga-san repeated.
"From here, you're going to your job as a tutor, right?"
"Ah, right. Yeah. You've got a good memory, Mizuno-san."
This response didn't feel all that inviting. It was probably better not to probe into this topic too deeply - at least, that's what I thought.
"What are you tutoring? How many students do you have? Boys? Girls?"
Kawatou-san's interest had been piqued and she fired off a barrage of questions. I didn't know what she wanted to be in the future - probably an attorney or a prosecutor - but just imagining her in a courtroom was draining.
"Ah, it's not that interesting."
The accused, Tokunaga-san, gently deflected the question.
"I!"
Himura-san suddenly spoke. When she said this it was such a departure from her usual silence or subdued voice that it was hard to believe it actually came from Himura-san's mouth.
"I misp.r.o.nounce words."
"Huh?"
Myself, Kawatou-san and Tokunaga-san looked at each other. Our conversation stopped and, consequently, I noticed that the cafe was playing cla.s.sical music in the background.
"Misp.r.o.nounce?"
But why say that now, all of a sudden. Perhaps that's why she'd only ever spoken in a barely audible voice before now.
"I think I'm speaking standard j.a.panese, but to locals it sounds like I'm misp.r.o.nouncing things."
Hearing this relatively long sentence reminded me of something.
"You're from the Tohoku region?"
"Exactly. See, you can tell, right?"
Himura-san said she was born and raised in Akita. Her soft-spoken manner was apparently a result of her complex about the way she talked. Her grandmother had helped raise her and everyone talked with that regional accent in her house, so much so that she even stood out amongst her peers at her local high school.
"So when it came time for me to move here, I talked with my friends about how to avoid having city students look down at me. Anyway, some fas.h.i.+on magazine said that perms were the in thing, so I thought that would be the way to go. But when I actually got here, everyone looked surprisingly plain. Even so, it'd still seem unnatural if I suddenly changed my hairdo and my wardrobe. And I was afraid of speaking, so I couldn't make any friends, and had no-one to turn to for advice."
Himura-san gathered pace as she spoke, until she was going all out at the end. Midway through she blew her nose on a paper napkin, and I took a pack of tissues out of my bag and offered them to her.
"Ahh-, I feel so much better after getting that off my chest."
"Have you come to a decision?"
"Yeah. When I get my monthly allowance from my parents, I'm going to a hairdresser. This fas.h.i.+on's a bit over-the-top. As for my accent, as long as I can make myself understood, it's fine."
Exactly. It had only taken her a one month detour to arrive at this truth.
" - so thanks for your help and I hope we get along well in the future."
With her second debut over, Himura-san smiled, her face showing the relief she had spoken of. She proved to be so charming and fascinating that it was hard to believe she was the same person as the soft-spoken, introverted girl.
"I should be heading off soon."
Tokunaga-san got up from her chair.
It was still only 4:45, but our conversation had reached a natural pause. It's always hard to leave when a conversation's in full flight.
"Ahh, my part of the bill."
Scanning the bill, Tokunaga-san opened her purse. A sign saying, "One bill per table," hung beside the register.
"Hmm, I wonder if this includes tax."
I heard Tokunaga-san mumble to herself and answered, mainly by reflex.
"Ah, it says tax not included."
"Oh, where's that?"
"It's in the fine-print on the menu."
At which point the other three had a curious expression on their faces.
"&h.e.l.lip; Very perceptive."
Tokunaga-san put some more money on the table, then I gave her the correct change from the coins I had in my purse.
"Geeze, Mizuno-san."
"Huh?"
"Were you a treasurer or something?"
Since you're so good at this, Himura-san was saying.
" &h.e.l.lip; I used to help out with things like that, a little bit."
I left it intentionally vague. It wasn't a total lie. In my third-year of high school, I had been a president of the school council, but there had been two other people with me, and we'd all shared the jobs of treasurer and secretary. Plus we'd received help from our juniors, our pet.i.t soeurs, so it's not like I'd done the job of a treasurer all by myself.
"Well then, I'll leave you here."
Kawatou-san waved as Tokunaga-san walked away.
"Give our regards to your students."
"Uhh."
This startled Tokunaga-san just as she was opening the door, and she turned around.
"Surely it would be troubling for her students to get greetings from people they've never met."
I pinned Kawatou-san's hand down.
"Ah, right."
With my eyes I urged Tokunaga-san to pay no attention to it and go, but standing in front of the door she found it hard to leave for some reason. Just as we were all starting to wonder why, she rushed back to the table and asked us:
"How do I look to you?"
"Huh?"
The remaining three of us looked at each other.
"What's your first impression of me, what kind of person do you think I am, that kind of thing."
"How do you look?"
How can anyone answer that question so quickly (and today was a big day for sudden announcements).
"Boyish, cool, good-looking."
"Intellectual, imperturbable, I suppose."
"Someone who wouldn't lose out to the men."
Himura-san, myself and Kawatou-san said what we thought.
"Is that so? Then I guess it's a success."
"What is?"
"Ah, nothing."
Tokunaga-san said, then turned once more and headed for the exit, but there's no way that 'Ah, nothing' was a suitable answer to that question.
"Plus, a mystery."
Himura-san muttered, concealed by the noise of Tokunaga-san closing the door. I shared her sentiments.
"How we're seen, how we want to be seen, and what type of person we are. Those three things aren't always aligned."
Kawatou-san said, her eyes drooping. She used her spoon to stir the cooled coffee in her cup. Her face lowered almost to the table. She looked as though she was drunk, but she'd followed her own declaration about not breaking the law and hadn't had any alcohol. The cream in the cake had a tiny bit of liqueur in it for flavoring, but it would be quite the feat to get drunk from that.
"You might not have noticed, but I'm not very good at organizing people or involving myself with them."
"I thought you said you were used to that kind of thing?"
Like a committee member, or an organizer. She'd said something about those roles usually falling to her.
"That was taken from my friend's life. She was beautiful, but she had no interest in being trendy, and was a natural leader. I always wanted to be like her. We lived in the same neighborhood, so we went to the same schools from elementary school through to high school and I thought we'd go to the same university too, but she failed the entrance exam to our uni. It was the only one I pa.s.sed. I was forlorn, it felt like the G.o.ds were saying that we had to separate. And so, I don't know what came over me, but I thought that I could become her. I'd been watching her for twelve years, so I should be able to imitate her. But it was impossible. I'm going to reset too."
Kawatou-san smiled, raising both hands in surrender. There was no doubt she had been influenced by Himura-san.
"Still."
I said.
"You shouldn't force yourself to change, but you shouldn't give up on something just because it's hard at the start, right?"
I didn't think it was necessarily bad to make an effort to change when you had a role model you wanted to be more like.
"Mizuno-san, you're like a teacher."
Himura-san smiled. d.a.m.n it. I'd switched into lecture mode.
The lights were turned down and the background music switched to jazz. The whole mood of the cafe changed. By the looks of things, it turned into a licensed venue in the evenings. I noticed that at some point the groups of old ladies had left and been replaced by young people sitting at tables alone or in twos.
Just as we were sensing that we should be leaving soon too, the door opened and a customer entered.
"Ah, you're still here."
It was Tokunaga-san, who had left the cafe not long ago, and when she spotted us she smiled and made her way over to the table.
"Ah, umm."
We were thrown into confusion. Tokunaga-san shouldn't have appeared, since she was supposed to be on her way to her tutoring job. But on her return, there was obviously something different about the woman that had departed less than an hour ago.
She was accompanied by two children, holding onto one with each hand. At a guess, I'd say the boys were three and one years old.
They were obviously too young to need a tutor. Well, there were parents that had tutors for their children right from when they were babies, but -
"Is your job babysitting?"
Kawatou-san inquired. Tokunaga-san shook her head, then lined it up beside the bigger boy's.
"I suppose I'm guilty of perjury. Or at least misrepresentation."
They looked so alike it was funny. The boy looked puzzled.
"Tokunaga-san, you're a mother!?"
"Yep. My parents live close by, so my mother looks after them on weekdays. There's my husband too, but he's a regular office worker and doesn't get home until the evening. But repeatedly explaining that to uni students five or six years younger than me was a drag, yeah? So I decided to just say I've got a part time job."
"You're really that much older, Tokunaga-san? Ah - sorry."
She'd started out speaking very informally, but then once she realized that Tokunaga-san was older she changed to be more respectful. Well, it's not like I didn't understand how she felt. Tokunaga-san really didn't look like she was 24 years old.
The younger boy looked upset, either because the dimly lit interior was scary or he was just tired, but at any rate Tokunaga-san said, "Well, see you tomorrow," and left.
No-one asked why Tokunaga-san had decided to reveal this to us.
When we left the cafe, the streets area around the train station were alive with people shopping. The florist above the "Mole Cafe 2" was quiet, but the displays in the gla.s.s windows were loaded with flowers.
"In the end, it was only Mizuno-san who left a consistent impression all the way through."
"Huh?"
I asked, curious at Kawatou-san's comment. I felt that I'd slipped up enough in Sei-mode that my original nature should have been revealed.
"You were an honors student in high school, right Mizuno-san? You're compa.s.sionate, a leader, attentive - like an older sister to everyone."
"Ah - "
I was dumbfounded.
The personality that I'd put so much effort into - the new Mizuno Youko, incorporating the irresponsibility of Satou Sei, the apathy of Satou Sei, the impetuousness of Satou Sei, plus the friendliness of f.u.kuzawa Yumi - had completely failed to permeate into the wider world.
"Uhh, and that's how you saw me, right from the start?"
I asked, to which both Kawatou-san and Himura-san responded with a resounding, "Yep."
"I see &h.e.l.lip; "
For no particular reason, I bought a single red rose on the way home.