"Gokigenyou."
"Gokigenyou."
The clear morning greeting travels through the serene, blue sky.
Today, once again, the maidens that gather in the Virgin Mary"s garden smile purely to one another as they pa.s.s under the tall gateway.
Wrapping their innocent bodies and souls is a deep-coloured school uniform.
Walking slowly as to not disturb the plaits in their skirts, so as to not toss their white sailor scarves into disarray... such is the standard of modesty here. Running because one is in danger of missing cla.s.s, for instance, is too undignified a sight for students to wish upon themselves here.
Lillian Private Academy for Women.
Founded in Meiji 34, this academy was originally intended for the young women of n.o.bility, and is now a Catholic academy of prestigious tradition. Placed in downtown Tokyo, where you can still see traces of Musashi Field"s greenery, it is protected by G.o.d, a garden where maidens can receive tutelage from pre-school to university.
Time pa.s.ses, and even now, in Heisei, three era-names past Meiji, it is a valuable academy, where nurtured ladies raised in greenhouses are shipped out in carefully packaged boxes after 18 years of schooling - an arrangement that continues to survive.
It"s the season of autumn.
The city"s filled with the color of Christmas.
But even so.
Before the fun, joyous event, the obligatory trial awaits the middle schoolers, commanding upon them a gloomy feeling.
Christmas, wasn"t that supposed to be Jesus" birthday?
They could abolish the second-semester exam in a Catholic school, at least, couldn"t they? That way everyone would be able to happily celebrate.
But the sky was big and clear again, today, enough to wrap up the students" deep sighs.
I decided, quietly, to let it sleep for eternity.
That"s why that forest, even now, firmly stretched out its thorns, repelling anyone from entering.
And I"ll die, probably, until that time.