The bride’s guests did not seem to be very close friends of hers either. At work she had disappeared into the crowd by attaching herself to Shoko. Presumably she had done the same during her school years as well.
‘That’s some dress!’
The compliment was given with a curious look at which Shoko beamed a smile.
‘The bride slept with my man and got herself knocked up, so as the former fiancée, I think I deserve a bit of spitefulness, wouldn’t you say?’
Judging by the gleeful squeals of the women at her table, it seemed unlikely that any of them considered the bride a friend.
Never was she gladder to have been gifted with natural beauty than when the bridal couple made their entrance and began to circulate to each table.
Even aided by the talents of a professional makeup artist, the bride was no match for Shoko. And had Shoko been wearing a fancier dress, the disparity would have been more extreme.
The bride’s face contorted wildly. She looked back at the groom with an expression like a Shinto demon, and Shoko knew that she was checking to see where the groom’s eyes were at that moment.
And there was no question—
In that instant, the groom was looking at Shoko. At the one who could have been his forever, had he not fallen into the trap laid by the woman he had just married.
‘I hope you have a wonderful life together.’
Shoko bowed, while the women at her table chimed in with a light-hearted, ‘Congratulations!’
When it was time for the photographer to snap the guests with the bridal couple, the bride’s voice rang out sharply.
‘Not this table! No photos, please!’
The women at her table played their parts, each of their comments a pinprick stab at the bride. Whether they were uncouth to begin with or whether they had guessed the situation and were siding with Shoko, either was fine by her.
Shoko herself had come here today knowing full well that the couple would consider her behaviour very unladylike.
The MC began to relay an anecdote about why the bride had chosen this hotel – her parents’ wedding had taken place here and she’d wanted her own to be held here too – which may have been meant as a charming story, though it made the earlier scene all the more satisfying for Shoko.
As the lights dimmed for a slideshow, a staff member from the venue approached Shoko from the shadows. ‘Excuse me,’ she said, holding out a black shawl. ‘The bride feels that your outfit is too dramatic, and wonders if you would consider wearing this around your shoulders.’
‘Very well.’
Now was her moment. Shoko stood up quietly.
‘Please excuse the interruption. I’m afraid I have to leave, please show me the way out.’
Without asking for any further clarification, the staff member immediately guided Shoko to the exit.
Having brought Shoko outside, under the cover of darkness, the staff member offered her a bag with the wedding favour inside. Shoko tried to refuse it but the staff member bowed politely.
‘I would be reprimanded for failing to give this to you, so I humbly request that you accept it.’
The staff member must have guessed the gist of the situation, whether by intuition or from experience. Shoko reluctantly accepted the bag and made her way to the station.
The announcement for Sakasegawa rang out, and the young woman who had been sitting beside the young man stood up.
‘The next time we meet, we should have a drink. I prefer beer in a glass mug, rather than in a can.’
The guy looked doubtful.
‘The central library. You go there a lot, don’t you? So then, next time we meet.’
And with a spring in her step, she alighted from the train—
There was a moment of indecision. Then he leapt off the train and rushed after her, bounding up the staircase.
Apparently they weren’t a couple, yet.
The start of new love, always a pleasure to see – but the timing was cruel.
She began to feel sullied by the curse she may have cast over the bridal couple’s happiness. The groom’s reputation was already substantially diminished within the company, but it would be almost impossible for him to change jobs in this recession, while the bride didn’t have the luxury to be able to just quit, even though her female colleagues were giving her the cold shoulder at the office.
Gossip may last seventy-five days, as the saying goes, but so long as Shoko still worked there – the ever-present victim of their shocking behaviour – the scandal would never go away.
She would never quit. To do so would make it too easy on them. This determination was warping her, she knew that, but the logical advice that there was no use holding a grudge or putting a curse on them didn’t ease Shoko’s mind either.