How boring to take the same road, she thought as she bypassed the slope she had come down earlier, choosing instead to take the next street that was also in the direction of the tracks. Sure enough, a train’s pantograph came into view. The end of this street connected up with the forked brick path outside the ticket gate. She could see the turnstiles ahead.

She climbed back up the gentle slope and as she hovered in front of the ticket machine, she made another pleasant discovery.

The sides of the machines were decorated with art that was clearly the work of small hands, celebrating the Tanabata Star Festival.

These decorations were made and donated by students from XX elementary school. May the lovers Princess Orihime (the Vega star) and Hikoboshi (the Altair star) be reunited again this year.

From the looks of it, this must have been the youngest students – rather than the entire elementary school – who decided among themselves to make these decorations and offer them to the station employees, who had accepted them graciously, as adults are wont to do.

Nevertheless, how many grownups nowadays would respectfully display children’s clumsy decorations? Especially when they weren’t those children’s teachers or parents.

Shoko bought another ticket for Umeda, and after passing through the ticket gate she called out to the person in the booth.

‘Excuse me …’

‘Yes, what is it?’ A salt-and-pepper-haired station employee emerged from the booth and responded amiably.

Shoko reached into the wedding favour bag and pulled out the package of hikigashi sweets.

‘Perhaps you and your colleagues would enjoy these?’ she said, setting the cookies on the counter.

The man looked a bit puzzled and before he could offer an excuse, Shoko continued:

‘I was invited to a little event and these were the favour that was handed out. I have a condition that prevents me from eating sweets. These cookies are from the hotel, and it would be a waste to throw them away, so if you’re willing to take them, I’d be grateful.’

In contrast to her dress, bought for the express purpose of her incursion, these cookies were blameless. What’s more, they had been baked at the hotel with the sincerest of intentions. Relinquishing them was a matter of convenience for Shoko – as long as someone else ate them, she would avoid the guilt of letting them go to waste.

‘You say you have a condition – are you diabetic?’ The station employee looked concerned. ‘What a pity, you’re so young. Isn’t there someone at home who might enjoy them?’

‘I live alone. And I was so happy to see that sign over there, I’d like to do something for the station workers before I go. As a sort of treat.’ Shoko pointed towards the notice about the swallows.

The man scratched his head.

‘They come here every year and they’re so adorable. I’m the one who built the cradles but I enlisted someone with far better penmanship for the sign.’

‘It’s lovely.’

As Shoko bowed and moved along, the station employee picked up the fancy cookies from the Takarazuka Hotel.

‘Thank you very much! I will tell the person who penned the sign!’ The man bowed deeply.

When she got to the platform, the train was about to pull in but Shoko stepped into the lavatory.

She took a look at her party makeup with fresh eyes – it really looked like warpaint.

Make me gorgeous. With the wedding in mind, for the first time in her life, she’d had her makeup done by a professional. I want to be the most beautiful I’ve ever looked. The makeup artist was highly skilled and indeed Shoko’s glamorous appearance had upstaged the bride.

The look on that woman’s face when she saw Shoko. As if she’d seen a demon, or karma incarnate.

Wringing that look out of her had been well worth the cost of a professional makeup artist. In fact it was priceless.

Her work was done.

Shoko pulled out the wipes she had just bought and began to clean her face. It took five sheets to fully remove the elaborately applied splendour.

She redid her makeup with the products she had on hand. A natural look this time.

Apart from her somewhat drab spur-of-the-moment outfit, she looked almost like her usual self.

The incursion was over.

Shoko could not yet wholly let go of her resentment, but her thrust had hit the mark. And she had no regrets.

When will my time come?

It was thanks to the old woman, who had struck up a conversation with her on the train, that Shoko could even begin to ponder that question.

Nigawa Station

‘I’m telling you!’

Misa laughed as she explained the same thing over again, one more time.

They were talking about the woman in the white dress who had got off at Obayashi Station.

Misa wore a smile but inwardly she was rather irritated.

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