Leaving that topic aside…
In the beginning, Tsurumaki's original plot had many ideas that were very interesting when expressed in words but hard to express in art. The visual directors—Yoshiyuki Sadamoto, Tadashi Hiramatsu, and Tsurumaki himself—shouted on many occasions, "This is hard to draw!" (And they still are yelling about this now.) I can't thank Mister Enokido enough for patiently reading many revised manuscripts with difficult and abstract images, and then going back to novelize it. (At this very moment, he's still on chapters five and six!) Without you, Director Tsurumaki and I probably would not be alive right now.
Please, enjoy the second and third volumes, as well.
Volume II
Marquis de Carabas
Chapter 1
When had Eri Ninamori noticed she wasn't an ordinary girl?
No, that's not quite the right way to phrase the question. There wasn't a point at which she'd noticed; she'd been special since the moment she was born. Actually, she'd been special even before she was born.
Ninamori was the tallest girl in the sixth grade at Mabase Elementary. That wasn't anything special, though—especially considering there were a few girls in the fifth grade who were taller than she was. There was another reason Ninamori was speciaclass="underline" She was the only one out of all the girls in the class who'd caught a snake or a lizard with her hands. Of course, that didn't mean she was special, either, but she thought reptiles were cute. She really couldn't see why they were anything to be afraid of. The reason Ninamori was special had to do with something entirely different.
Four years ago—just as she was beginning her second year of elementary school—Ninamori had modeled for an advertisement for a study desk. All she had to do was open her textbooks on the desk and grin for the cameraman. The ad ended up running in all the education journals across the entire country.
The response from adults to Ninamori's modeling had been very positive, ranging from, "The way she smiles is so professional" and "She could be a top model" to "So pretty!" and "She should go out for some modeling auditions." Although Ninamori had really enjoyed herself, she hadn't done any other modeling work since then. She knew the adults who were lavishly praising her were only seeking her father's favor.
The real reason Ninamori had been chosen for that modeling job was because of her father's position. "We've chosen you to do it" and "please do this for us" were two completely different things. To top it off, the finished photos for the ad weren't that good. The lighting in the shot they used was subpar; and all in all, Ninamori could've been made to appear much cuter. The girl on the magazine page struck her as an idiot with her wide-open, toothy grin. Maybe I'm not very special, she thought. Getting praised by the foolish adults who'd made the photo was meaningless. The reason Ninamori was special lay somewhere else.
Ninamori was aware she was pretty, and she didn't have any of the typical complexes a girl of her towering height usually had. In fact, on days she wasn't at school, she'd wear shoes or sandals with amazingly tall heels to make herself appear taller than she was. At least half the boys in her class had a crush on her. After all, she was the girl who shined the brightest. Maybe I'm not very special. Ninamori was pretty, smart, and she was class president. All the counselors and teachers thought she was special. Maybe I'm not very special. Above all, her father was the mayor of Mabase. Maybe I'm not very special. Maybe I'm not very special. Maybe…
SHUT UP!
Occasionally, Ninamori would hear that annoying voice. Every once in a while, there were annoying things in the world—annoying actions, annoying people.
That morning, Ninamori was on her way to school in the car. Going to and from school in a car was forbidden by the school unless you were sick or had broken something—but if you went to a side street where no one could see you getting out, there wasn't a problem. Of course, Ninamori took care that no one saw her.
The traffic light turned red, and the woman who was driving put her foot on the brake. A second later, the woman pulled out her compact, slapped on some makeup, and quickly sprayed herself with perfume. Ninamori, who was sitting in the back, assumed an expression of disgust as she opened the window.
Every once in a while, there were annoying things in the world—annoying actions, annoying people.
The woman who was driving Ninamori was Ninamori's father's secretary. For the past two years, her father's secretary had always been by his side. She was a woman with gaudy makeup—a woman who put on too much perfume and who clearly had a bad sense of smell.
"I'm impressed." The annoying woman had an equally annoying voice. "You listened calmly. The mayor had been worried."
The previous night, Ninamori had heard from her father that he might be leaving her mother.
"Daddy still loves Mommy, but they don't go so well together anymore," Ninamori's father had explained. "Because Daddy's the mayor now, he can't publicly divorce her—it'd cause too much of a fuss. So, for now, they're going to live separately—in different houses. It's an adult thing. You understand, don't you, sweetie?" Ninamori's father had tried to put on an apologetic face, but he still seemed happy.
The thing Ninamori hated most was that when her father had told her about him and her mother, that secretary woman had been right by his side, as she always was.
"It's between my father and mother," Ninamori muttered disinterestedly.
"You're so clever, aren't you?" the secretary replied. "When I was Miss Eri's age, I was so much more childish."
"Well, if they want to split up, there isn't anything I can do about it."
The light turned green and the woman put the car into gear, speeding forward. Watching the woman's hand operate the gear stick made Ninamori feel like throwing up. The truth was that Ninamori hadn't wanted to ride in the car with this woman, but when Ninamori opened her front door, the woman had been waiting there with a cheerful smile on her face.
"I'll drive you to school," the woman offered. It seemed as though she was pleased by the fact Ninamori hadn't raised any objections to her parents' separation.
Why do you have to be the one driving me? Gross! Ninamori thought to herself, although she really wanted to scream it at the top of her lungs. She grew more annoyed when she observed the woman driving with a self-satisfied look.
Ninamori's father had bought the car a month before, intending it to be the family car. However, the woman had started driving it around as if it were her own. She'd put her own CDs in it, decorated it with ugly toys, and marked it with her perfume.
Take me to school? You must be kidding! You're my hired driver— nothing more than an employee. You still have to do what I say. With that in mind, Ninamori got into the backseat instead of the passenger seat. Of course, the idiotic woman hadn't taken Ninamori's hint at all. She really believed Ninamori had no idea that she'd been a part of Ninamori's parents' separation.
"You're holding up so well," praised the secretary. "Don't worry, I won't do anything to damage your father's image."
"That's a relief, secretary. I have faith in your abilities," Ninamori replied with blatant sarcasm. "You stayed over last night, but you're wearing a different suit than you were yesterday."
"Oh, you're very observant."
Once again, the secretary had failed to recognize Ninamori's sarcasm and instead gave her a broad smile.
Ninamori knew her father's secretary had been in his room all night. The reason for her parents' separation was, without a doubt, all because of this woman.