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yomiko

p62

Posted on 2009.02.03 at 17:48
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Nenene, at a loss, grabbed her own head with both hands, and began to pull at her hair until it looked as if a bomb had gone off.

"Se......Sensei?"

Finally hearing the noise, Nenene spun around and spotted Yomiko for the first time.

"Uwha~....."

As the girl now stood before her, Yomiko unthinkingly produced
The Streetcorner where the Cat Lives from a pocket and began to compare her with the portrait within.

Her eyes were large and bloodshoot, and her hairstyle was in complete disarray. The upper button of her uniform was undone, but the impression it gave wasn't so much "sexy" as "dead tired". Her mouth didn't have the leisure to smile around the heaving breaths brought on by her overexcitement.

When matched up one by one the parts certainly seemed identical, but the feeling was the opposite.

"You're Sumiregawa.....Nenene.....Sensei.....right?"

Thus Yomiko nervously tried to start things off.

"Ohhhhhhh~!"

Letting loose a scream that neither confirmed or denied that fact, Nenene suddenly burst forward. As the space between them suddenly shrunk, a dumbstruck Yomiko tried to retreat.

“The Sword of Medusea! Faltz, whom Doreed had tried to protect, may be beheaded! You, what would you do?!”


----

Dear God, I have NO idea on what to do with some of those names. Nenene, you have to stop outnerding me! It makes me cry, like so: ;_;

If anyone wants to take a crack at de-katakanaizing names: Faltz was "Farutsusu" and Doreed was "Dooriddo".

yomiko

p61

Posted on 2009.02.03 at 10:28
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"Sumi--....."

Yomiko directed her voice toward the girl's back.

"Sumiregawa, Sensei~!"

"...................."

The girl's only answer was silence.

"Sumiregawa, Sensei.....?"

Yomiko's statement began to take the form of a question.

"....................."

The fingers of the girl's spread hands jerked slightly. The motion was minor enough that Yomiko failed to notice.

The air within the library began to change for the worse. Until now, the atmosphere had been that of calm silence, but the girl had swiftly sent its temperature dropping.

Yomiko raised her voice slightly and threw out her statement a third time.

"Sumiregawa, Nenene, Sensei~!"

"OOOohaaaargh~!"

The girl called Nenene stood stock upright, screaming at the top of her lungs. From the violence of her motion, the wheeled chair on which she had sat shot backward and fell to the floor.

Yomiko shrunk back in surprise.

"Can't wrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiittte!"

yomiko

p60

Posted on 2009.02.02 at 20:58
Tags:

It felt as if external time had no impact here.

Of course, that could be said of any library.

With each step Yomiko took, the volume of the song steadily increased. In effect, it could be said that she was drawing ever closer to the unwitting performer.

It couldn’t be wrong now. From around the next bookcase the song could be clearly heard.

Yomiko swallowed hard. Elation and nervousness intermingled within her body.

But right at this moment, the song was cut off.

“Eh--?”

After her thoughtless speech, Yomiko retreated in a panic back behind the nearest bookcase.

In that spot was...she.


Between the stacks there was a concave table. On its surface were piled dozens of books, separated by various place-markers.

And, worked somehow into their midst, a total of four notebook computers had been placed. All of them seemed operational, and several of their screens displayed word processing programs.

This corner of the library had been transformed into a sort of private study.

The girl who was responsible for this transformation sat in a chair at the center of the area. From behind, she appeared to have both hands raised as if begging heaven for some favor.

Her chestnut hair shot out backward energetically. That hairstyle was the same as in that young woman’s photograph.


-----

Damnit Nenene, that's some serious nerd-pimpage. Four laptops? Really?

yomiko

p59

Posted on 2009.02.01 at 22:25
Tags:
Since class was in session, no human figures were in sight. There was nothing more than rays of sunlight spilling through the window to fill the calm air.

It was a perfectly ordinary high school library.

“.............Yeaah--.......”

Yomiko basked to her heart’s content in the scent of the library.

Blended from an innumerable variety of paper, it was a deep and pleasant fragrance. This air held a different flavor than that found in a bookstore.

“Hmmm~....Hm?”

That sound flew straight to the now olfactorally-satisfied Yomiko’s ears.

Spun forth like a full piece of music, the surprisingly pleasant sound reoccurred at regular intervals. Comparable to a two-musician piece for the piano, it carried a tangled, complicated melody.

That song originated from somewhere within the stacks.

More specifically than just the stacks, it had emitted from the hidden spot at the innermost part of the library.

Yomiko unsteadily walked forward, drawn to the spot like a traveler lost in the woods to the sound of a fairy’s flute.

Perhaps due to a lack of visitors, much of the contents of the shelves along the way were crowned with dust.

To complete the scene, little sunlight penetrated this far in, giving the stacks the appearance of a labyrinth’s walls.

yomiko

p58

Posted on 2009.02.01 at 20:58
Tags:
“Ahahahaha~...”

Yomiko stood before the entrance to the Library room.

No one had told her how to get here. By herself, unerringly, she had made her way to this room.

So long as a given school had a library, Yomiko was able to pinpoint that room’s location. The scent born of the stacks of books called her forth.

With a single swift motion, she laid her cheek against the door.

“Within this very room...”

Her voice and expression began to display signs of burning excitement.

“Sumiregawa-sensei, is here...”

She rubbed her face affectionately up and down the door. Like a young girl in love, a pink blush spread across her cheeks.

“So--.... Ahem.”

Drawing herself up formally, she cleared her throat in preparation.

“Aaah--... I am a Cat. I am as of yet nameless...”

She practiced her declamation from the depths of her literary self.

“Please, excuse meee...”

Yomiko quietly opened the door and stepped into the room.

From where she stood, she could see the checkout counter, and set a bit off to the side, tables and desks for reading, and at the heart of the room, a large number of bookcases arranged in parallel lines....


yomiko

I guess I should have titled this blog Translate AND Die

Posted on 2009.01.24 at 21:55
Current Mood: tiredtired
Tags:
So I just translated five pages in a row. After finishing this entry, I will swiftly expire, and hopefully be reborn quickly enough to translate more soon. (Like Sailor Saturn, but much less epic.)

Those pages should have been done throughout the last week or so, but I had to recover from catching this guyattending a local nerd con, not to mention being sketched out by some of the later parts of this section of the book. (I'm reading ahead on the train.) There's proper shojo-ai, and then there's being creepy. Hideyuki, you walk that line damn closely sometimes.

yomiko

p57 (In which some teenagers school Yomiko)

Posted on 2009.01.24 at 21:54
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“Please sign this! I shall make it a family treasure! I will not move from this spot until you sign it!” Well then, please play along and come up here, Sumiregawa-sensei!”

If she were intending to plead, Yomiko normally wouldn’t be this discourteous. It’s just that her common sense had utterly left her in her intoxicated state. When she had read an interesting book, it could be said that the danger existed of her becoming completely overwhelmed by it.

At the back of the dumbstruck classroom, a female student raised her hand.

“Ummm—...”

“Yes?”

“Nenene, she’s in the Library Room...”

“Huh?”

“It’s ‘cause she’s got a deadline coming up. I think she’s writing her manuscript.”

“’Cause she’s a famous author, ya know. ‘Course she’d be busy with work, right?”

In the voice of the student who’d spoken up in confirmation could be discerned a tone of annoyance from some past event, but Yomiko hadn’t listened that long.
Her eyes shone from behind her glasses like a beast stalking its prey.

“Excuse me!”

With that, she flew out of the classroom.

From the suit of the still-present Hashimoto, snot dripped onto a desk.

Standing there was a disheveled-looking woman, with both tears and snot flowing freely down her face and a copy of The Streetcorner where the Cat Lives clutched tightly in her hand.

The matter at hand was clearly one Yomiko Readman.

“Wh-what do you want, Sensei...”

On receiving such an unexpected visitor, Hashimoto was unable to hide his surprise, but even then, he managed to speak with the demeanor of a relatively proper gentleman.

However, Yomiko didn’t even spare a glance for the aforementioned Hashimoto. While everyone present stared at her, she made a beeline for the teacher’s platform.

“I, I was just moved. Moved beyond words!”

Excitement, passion, and intoxication intermingled in her expression as her voice continued to rise.

“Your previous work,
The Love Song from under the Ceiling, was great too, but this time you were reaaaaally amazing! Ooooh, jeeeez!”

Yomiko grabbed Hashimoto’s suit as the teacher tried to focus on his math lesson, and proceeded to loudly blow her nose on it.

“Urgh—, aaaah—!”

Hashimoto raised a shout louder than any he ever had before, because that suit was a memorable present given to him by his daughter, purchased with her very first paycheck.

After swiftly depositing her snot on that heart-warming item, Yomiko turned back toward the students.

However, the sole topic that was being discussed, stealthily, by the students was the problem of the star of the morning, one Yomiko Readman. Students who’d skipped the morning exercises were being fed exaggerations as their classmates tried to explain about the new teacher.

“We got a sub? ‘Stead of Abe-chan?”

“She was at it for a good half hour, saying that book’s good, this book’s good.”

“Stuff like that, no one really got, yeah?”

“....But ya know, she sorta had a cute face.”

“You dumbass, you got a thing for glasses? Serious?”

From the idle talk of the students, their impression of the new teacher could be determined, and that revolved around but a single point.

Those students who hadn’t seen her with their own eyes were exceedingly interested and kept pressing the actual witnesses for more info.

“What’s her name? That teacher.”

“Some ridiculous name. Uhhh, something like...”

Hashimoto’s chalk stopped, but the current problem wasn’t entirely written out yet. As he turned his head to look back, the students quickly dropped their gaze toward their desk.

“Well, for this problem, let’s see then, Sumi...”

“Sumiregawa, Sensei—!”

The classroom door suddenly burst open with enough force to drown out the rest of Hashimoto’s statement.

“[Her speech continues] A lot of people avoid it, thinking it sounds too much like a shojo manga, but they shouldn’t, ‘cause it’s a reaaalll tear-jerker. Ah, the original author usually goes by Makizawa Uri-san, but under a different pen name he wrote this book, Dotou’s Newlywed Life. Since that was a best-seller, you’ve all heard of it, right? However, if you match it with this one, called The Married Chimp, you can have fun finding all the similarities between the two books. Ooh, yeah, and speaking of that chimp, I got his signature at a live event with different authors that I went to.... It was this book, actually. It was more than just a signature; he even drew me stuff. You see, right here, look, it’s a monkey ~!....”

With a series of thuds, she began to pile books on top of the podium.

As the number of volumes grew, the feeling of irritation that always filled the air during any morning exercises reached new heights.

In the end, Yomiko’s speech took up a full twenty-seven minutes and covered 33 books. There was clearly more remaining at the point where she was cut off by a male teacher miming that she should step down from the stage. The students burst into grateful applause as she retreated.




“What’s up with that teacher? Walking around with that many books, no way that’s normal.”

“She’s pretty weird, gotta say.”

Due to the addition of the substitute teacher, classes had been scheduled to begin later than usual, luckily enough.

Here, in senior class A, Hashimoto-senshi had written the admonishment “Why don’t you try doing this a bit faster?” on a blackboard that was otherwise completely full of mathematical formulae.


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