Golden Week was here. The first of our long, five-day vacation was blessed with perfect weather. I stood in front of the venue, fiddling with my necktie because I could think of no other way to distract myself from the nerves. I’d borrowed a suit out of my dad’s wardrobe just for this: the open house.
No way this actually worked. A second-year high schooler pretending to be an adult with marriage on the mind? Had there ever been a worse miscast in the history of acting? I’d even used some stuff on my hair to make it look nice, but now I could feel the breeze in places I never could before, and it was freaking me out.
A willowy, pale white hand took my tie from me. “I’ll fix it.”
It belonged to my fiancée—pretend fiancée—Shikiya-san. She wore a black dress, her hair done up and adorned with a flower ornament.
“Sorry,” I said. “Just nervous.”
I eyed the building behind her. A fancy, tiled edifice with walls extending from it and around the actual venue itself. The entryway was a trendy, modern design of primarily white and brown colors. I couldn’t see inside very well. Off toward the parking lot, I spied a rustling bush and two figures lurking around it. Asagumo-san sported a headset and wielded a laptop, while Yanami held high a weird, umbrella-esque antenna. Several other places shared the lot, so they wouldn’t necessarily attract the venue’s attention, but that didn’t ease my concerns very much.
“They gonna be okay, you think?” I asked.
“It’s fine,” she rasped. “Be confident.”
“Uh, hey!”
She took my arm and guided me through the front door. First impression: tall ceilings. It was a lot more spacious than it looked from the outside. Further ahead was a counter, the employee on the other side of it flashing us a kind smile.
I stood up straight and relaxed my throat. “We, uh, have an appointment under Shinbashi.”
“Give me just one moment.” The uniformed employee looked down at a tablet. “Shinbashi Kazuhiko-san and Yoshida Yumeko-san, yes? It’ll be just up those stairs.”
Today, I was indeed Shinbashi Kazuhiko, a recently graduated eighteen-year-old with marriage on the mind. Swaying to my side was my fiancée, Yoshida Yumeko, twenty-year-old flower shop employee.
Yumeko lazily looked around then rested her head on my shoulder. She smelled so good, I wished time would stop.
“Where do…the gifts go?” she sighed.
“There’s no wedding. This is only a tour.” Had she been listening when we explained it to her? I left the counter and started toward the stairs before we could blow our cover. “Senpai, what exactly did the president tell you?”
Her finger went over my lips as we climbed. “My name isn’t ‘Senpai.’”
Right. We’re engaged. “Y-Yumeko. What did Houkobaru-san tell you?”
“Something…about a wedding. Yours, I assumed.”
She’d assumed wrong.
While I pondered this and the many other shortcomings of human language, I noticed her staring at me. “Se… Yumeko?”
“I could get used to this.” She played with my hair.
“Q-quit it.”
“Someone’s shy.”
Who was this? Was Shikiya-san always this much of a bully?
“Excuse me,” grumbled a voice directly in my ear. “We can hear you.”
Yanami came in through the wireless earbud in my right ear. Her team out in the parking lot was supposed to send us instructions remotely, but I foresaw this arrangement being more of a burden than any help whatsoever. Didn’t take much foresight when it was happening in real time.
“What exactly do you think you’re hear—Y-Yumeko! I said stop!”
“What’s happening in there?! Answer me! Answer me right—”
I switched it off just as we entered the room where the venue’s presentation would be given. In case it wasn’t obvious, we’d left Shiratama-san behind. Felt like the courteous thing to do given her history with the place.
✦ ✦ ✦
Rewinding a bit to two hours ago, in the lit club room…
Yanami and Asagumo-san looked me up and down, scrutinizing my suited self with very peculiar looks on their faces. They looked at each other and nodded. Words would have been nice.
Shiratama-san finished her own examination and put her hands together. “You clean up well, President. The suit really does make the man.”
I appreciated the kind words, but hers were the eyes of a liar. I was starting to figure her language out. Next to me stood my partner, Shikiya-san, in her dress. I could smell her perfume from here.
Asagumo-san, a cooling patch plastered to her forehead, placed something on the table. A single earbud. “Put this in, Nukumizu-san. We’ll use it to relay instructions.”
“So your voice’ll come through this thing?”
“That’s right. It has a built-in microphone as well, so we’ll be able to hear you too.” She placed something else on the table, this time in front of Shikiya-san. A flowery hair ornament.
Shikiya-san cautiously picked it up. “What…is this?”
“There’s a 360-degree camera hidden in it. Put it on, please.”
So I was the ears, and she was the eyes.
Shiratama-san fidgeted a bit before raising her hand. “Um, and what about me?”
“It would be best if you kept from appearing at the venue until the day of the wedding,” Asagumo-san said. “I’m sorry, but you’ll be on standby today.”
The general presentation would begin at ten this morning. After that would be time for individual questions and therein lay the source of our troubles. I could not stress enough that we were only high school students pretending to be adults. Which meant we had to be as prepared as possible to sell the illusion.
Asagumo-san began to delineate everything on the whiteboard. Shikiya-san and I were young but looking to host a shotgun wedding because of nondescript societal obligations. She’d thought of everything. Addresses, phone numbers, employment, family situations, budget, and even preliminary ceremony plans.
When she’d finished writing it all out, she faced us again and cleared her throat. “Our time to dedicate to this will be severely limited when school starts again. We should endeavor to make the most of the long break.”
“‘We’? I thought you said you had plans with Ayano,” I pointed out.
“He has elected to attend a study camp.” The light left her forehead. “A ‘surprise,’ he called it. He intends to surpass me on the next test. For what good that does me. How thoughtful.”
Ayano hadn’t changed much, it would seem.
I glanced to my side. Shikiya-san was staring at her ornament. “Um, Senpai? How much of the situation have you heard?”
“Most of it. From Houkobaru,” she breathed. “Probably.”
This worried me, but I took her word for it. I’d agonized over worse things. It took more than that to faze this lit club president.