Chapter 15

THAT NIGHT, I more or less came to terms with things. After hearing my friend express his wishes in no uncertain terms, I had no choice but to respect them.

And yet, while waiting for it to be time to depart after eating breakfast on the morning of, I was visibly quite anxious—at least according to my wife. She went and pulled out some photos from our own wedding to help get my mind off of things in the meantime. You’d think there wouldn’t be much difference between the way we looked now and the way we looked back in our mid-twenties. But for some reason, in those pictures, I could see something in our younger selves that I didn’t really feel anymore—a reckless lack of inhibition.

In one of the photos, taken during the reception when my wife and I went around lighting candles at all of our friends’ tables, I could see Chizuru and Hibiki sitting right next to each other. They were both smiling from ear to ear.

“Come to think of it,” said my wife, “didn’t we go to a festival once, the four of us? You, me, Chizuru-chan, and Hibiki-kun?”

“We sure did,” I said.

It was back in our junior year of college. The three of us had been talking about wanting to go out to do something stereotypically summery together, when Chizuru suggested I bring my (at the time) girlfriend along. There was just something about drinking beer from a plastic cup in the middle of a huge crowd that made it taste so much better than usual. I could still remember the sizzle of carbonation running down my throat.

“Just between you and me,” said my wife, “I was one hundred percent sure they were dating back then. Like, not a shadow of a doubt in my mind.”

“Nah,” I said. “Just friends.”

It was only after I said this that I realized it could be interpreted in three equally valid ways: that they’d only been friends back then, that they’d remained nothing more than friends to this day, and that friends was all they would ever be, now and always.

After looking at old photos and reminiscing with my wife for a while, the time finally came for me to get ready to leave. Once I groomed my beard and did my hair, I put on the suit I’d picked out. Judging from my reflection in the mirror, I sure looked like I was ready to celebrate my friend’s big day—and yet, it felt like there was something I still needed to do. Feeling a nostalgic urge, I went into the kitchen to make a request of my wife, who was still busy drinking her coffee.

“Hey, can we do a quick huddle?” I asked.

“Ooh,” said my wife. “Been a while since we did one of those.”

With no hesitation whatsoever, she got up off the sofa and we put our arms around each other’s shoulders. Then we both hunched over a little bit and let out a stifled cheer to pump ourselves up. This was something we’d done a lot when we were younger, as a way of encouraging each other on mornings when one of us had a written exam, or a final job interview, or a big presentation at work. But as we got older and faced fewer nerve-racking situations, we’d gradually stopped performing this little ritual.

“Not sure what you need to get pumped up for, though,” said my wife, after we broke the huddle. “It’s Chizuru-chan’s big day, not yours.”

A fair point.

And it did feel a bit silly to have a huddle like this between only two people. And yet, seeing the smile on her face made me picture a future with one or two more people added to these little family huddles. That thought made the tension in me melt away.

On my way out the door, my wife warned me not to drink too much today, and gave me a message for Chizuru, telling her to come visit the next time she was home. Then she kissed me goodbye, and I made my way to the venue.

“Morning, Karin-chan,” said a voice.

Of course the person I’d see first, after a sweet, harmonious conjugal scene like that, would be Hanao. How very typical.

The venue was in a hotel, and we’d all decided to meet up in the lobby. Right as I was approaching the main entrance, after walking from the nearest station, Hanao pulled up via taxi. She wore a red dress with a black jacket over it.

“Morning,” I replied. “Been a while, hasn’t it? Don’t think we’ve seen each other since that whole birthday orienteering event.”

“Sure haven’t,” said Hanao. “Have you seen the others since then?”

“Went drinking with the guys once, including some others who weren’t invited today—but even that was like six months ago. Haven’t seen Mai-tan since either. Saw Chizuru like three months ago, after Hibiki invited me out to an izakaya, and she was just there for some reason.”

“Oh, you don’t say.”

From her tone, I could tell she clearly had some far more catty and judgmental thoughts about this, but I didn’t probe her any further. It was too nice a day for that.

Thankfully, that would be the last hint of that sort of negativity from Hanao today. She quickly pivoted to making a more earnest request of me.

“Apparently, one of Chizu-nee’s coworkers is a big fan of mine, so please stop me if I start drinking too much.”

When we walked inside the lobby, Mai-tan and Taiga-san were already there. The latter was in a standard suit, while the former wore a fairly muted affair comprised of a beige dress and a black bolero.

“Morning,” I said. “Surprised you’re not wearing your wizard outfit today, Mai-tan.”

“No magic needed for the bride and groom today,” she said, grinning.

In all honesty, since I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her since, I was a little worried she might still be kinda pissed about the whole infidelity thing. But when she flashed me her trademark smug face, I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Where’s Hibiki?” asked Hanao.

“Haven’t seen him yet,” said Taiga-san.

A few months prior, this answer might have worried me a bit. But I knew now there was very little risk of him crashing the ceremony and absconding with the bride. And sure enough, the man himself soon came waltzing into the lobby, wearing a bright white necktie only outshined by the beaming smile directly above it.

“Morning,” he greeted us. “Would’ve bet money on you shaving the beard for a special day like this, but I’m glad I didn’t.”

“Morning,” I replied. “I did groom it, for your information.”

I wasn’t about to tell anyone this, but there was actually a reason I left the beard—and not just out of laziness, or because I didn’t want to have to grow it out again. Since Hibiki had chosen to live life his own way, I’d decided I was going to operate based on my own sense of propriety as well, without caving to peer pressure.

“Y’know, I used to be pretty anti-beard for you, Karin-chan, but I’ve really gotten used to it lately,” said Hanao. “Mai said it looked really bad on you too.”

“Hey!” said Mai-tan. “Don’t go telling on me, you little narc!”

“Damn,” I said. “I’d expect that sort of comment from Hanao, but et tu, Mai-tan?”

“I just meant you look more reputable and honest without it. But on second thought, shaving it wouldn’t help much in that regard at this point.”

Ah. It seemed the adultery thing wasn’t just water under the bridge to her yet after all. Which made sense—there’d been a whole year in college when she, I, and my wife were all in the same classes together. I couldn’t expect her to forgive me that easily. I’d just have to resign myself to my fate, it seemed.

Not a moment too soon, Taiga-san suggested we head inside.

Since this was a workplace marriage, it seemed there were going to be an awful lot of guests today. As such, we’d all been sent guest cards in advance, which we’d use to gain entrance.

“Congratulations on your loved ones’ special day.”

When it was our turn in line, we handed our guest cards and monetary gift envelopes to the usher lady at the reception table. Most weddings, I never knew what sort of envelope design to choose. This time it was easy as pie: I’d picked one with flying cranes on it. They weren’t just a symbol of a happy marriage—Chizuru’s name had the character for “crane” in it too. It seemed everyone else had the same idea.

After being ushered into the guest waiting room, I was finally greeted by the giant illustrated welcome board in all its glory. I just stood there in awe, admiring it for a moment—and not just because the artist was a friend of mine either. The two girls who’d been in front of us were taking selfies with it to commemorate the moment. I wanted nothing more than to give it a huge round of applause. It was so lovely and professional—there wasn’t even a hint of the negative emotions its creator had called me up to vent about. Instead, the four of us simply stood there as we heaped heartfelt praise upon Hanao’s incredible artwork. She tried to act aloof, but I could tell she was blushing deep down. She was just that sort of woman.

After receiving our welcome drinks, we found ourselves an open four-seater table and took a load off. Mai-tan had insisted on remaining sober until after the ceremony, and Taiga-san decided to join her in this. Hanao and I chose sparkling wine.

As we waited for the ceremony to begin, Taiga-san related to us his experience getting a full checkup at the doctor’s office recently. Apparently, the endoscopy had been even more uncomfortable than he was expecting, but not unbearable.

While we were sitting there, having a conversation that made me feel extremely old, a group of four women approached our table. Apparently, they’d been members of Chizuru’s music club back in college, which meant they obviously knew Hibiki as well. One was also an old friend of Mai-tan’s, from when she worked on the special events board—apparently they were both in charge of organizing the after-party together. I didn’t know a single one of them, but I greeted them pleasantly nonetheless. We were all here for the same reason today, after all: celebrating Chizuru.

Once the five of us were alone to engage in mindless chitchat again, Hanao revealed she’d booked a hotel room downtown for tonight and made a harrowingly ominous statement about how she wouldn’t “let us get away that easily” if we’d been planning to head home before the last train.

At this point, the ceremony was only ten minutes away. The guest waiting room was bustling with celebratory spirit as everyone eagerly anticipated the moment we’d all been waiting for. As groups slowly began to be called into the ceremony hall based on relationship to the bride and groom, I cast a furtive glance over at Hibiki, only to find him glancing right back at me. We both chuckled at this random yet meaningful eye contact. From his grin, I could almost hear him say, “You’re not still worried I might pull something, are you?”

After everyone had entered the chapel area, the ceremony promptly began.

It was, for lack of a better word, an unremarkable ceremony. Of course, by this I just mean it had fairly run-of-the-mill proceedings—obviously, the fact it was my good friend’s wedding made it feel special regardless.

When Chizuru first walked down the aisle in her wedding dress, I genuinely thought to myself, Damn—didn’t think she’d be able pull off that look so well. For some reason, I’d been expecting her to walk in wearing the same adrenaline-pumped, beaming smile she wore when walking out on stage at a concert, or if not that, at least the usual carefree smile she wore when hanging out with us. But no—to my surprise, she actually looked quite graceful and demure.

Keeping my needless worries to myself, I kept an eye on Hibiki throughout the ceremony. From start to finish, he had the biggest grin. He seemed genuinely happy for his friend. Personally, I definitely wouldn’t have been able to sit back and watch a girl I was in love with exchange wedding vows with some guy I didn’t even know, all with a smile on my face. So when I applauded, it was partly directed at Hibiki.

There was an even greater fear of mine I was extremely relieved to learn had been needless. Not about Hibiki, but about Chizuru. I’d wanted nothing more than for her to be able to set everything else aside, just for today, and focus on herself and making this the happiest day of her life—and by all accounts, it seemed my wish came true.

Once the vows were exchanged, and a shower of flower petals began to fall over the newly wedded couple, we all pulled out our phones and cameras to take pictures. Through the rain of petals, the bride made eye contact with us—and for a split second, her uncharacteristically ladylike expression gave way to a more typical combat-ready visage. I assumed she felt a little embarrassed for us to see her like this. It was a much-needed, tiny glimpse of the real Chizuru, hidden amid a scene that was very much not her usual vibe.

Once the photo op was over, we all gave another round of applause as the bride and groom walked back down the aisle and said goodbye to the gallery for the time being. The guests were then ushered back into the waiting room, where we had a bit of free time to kill until the reception began.

“Man, that’s gotta be the most grown up I’ve ever seen her look,” I said.

“No kidding,” said Hanao. “All right, now all that’s left is to kick back, get drunk, pig out, and watch some corny montage video about how they first met.”

Although Hanao was being perhaps a bit too honest, I couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. Mai-tan, however, was quick to chime in.

“You’d better actually watch it,” she said. “It’s got photos and videos of us from back in our college days too, courtesy of yours truly.”

“Damn, you even helped out with that, Mai-tan?” I asked.

Beside me, Hibiki raised his hand slightly.

“I gave them some old band photos too,” he said.

One might have been forgiven for wondering if he was up to something. But I’d checked in with him beforehand to make sure he wasn’t about to pull some stunt where he suggested the bride get on stage and play a cover song together, or anything like that. Showing a few old band photos was indeed a much more metered idea, typical of a balanced guy like Hibiki.

The musical entertainment would instead be provided by an ensemble choir of friends of both the bride and groom, all of whom had apparently been members of their respective high schools’ choral clubs. It was nice to know I could watch this without having to worry about one of my friends climbing on stage and embarrassing themselves.

“Honestly, if we’re gonna show embarrassing photos, they should’ve just gotten Chizu-nee to throw on her leather jacket and play us a song,” said Hanao, now drinking her second glass of sparkling wine. “Sounds like she finally bought that fancy new guitar she wanted, so might as well let us hear it, right?”

“Or you could’ve graced us with one of your infamous live painting performances,” I said. Now that the ceremony had concluded without issue, I felt relaxed enough to engage in some light teasing banter.

“Yeah, it’s funny how everyone’s got some past mistakes they really wish people would stop bringing up in front of everyone, huh? Isn’t that right, guys?”

It seemed I’d dug my own grave by kicking the hornet’s nest. Mai-tan grinned deviously at this comeback, while Taiga-san winced awkwardly. Only Hibiki responded by making a counter-quip about how her performance fee would be a lot higher nowadays.

They’d given us the seating chart for the reception at check in, so when we all agreed we were ready to sit down, we moved over into the spacious banquet hall, which was decked out to the rafters with celebratory razzle-dazzle. This sort of thing just reminded me of events I’d organize and attend for work, so I wasn’t as spellbound as the others.

“Do they do literary award ceremonies at places like this too?” Taiga-san asked, almost as if he could read my mind.

“You bet they do,” I said, keeping it short and simple. Hopefully, this curtness made it clear how exhausting I found those to be.

Each of the round tables had seats for eight. The five of us were all at the same table, and we quickly found the placards with our names on them. In clockwise order, it was Hibiki, then me, then Taiga-san, then Hanao, then Mai-tan. I could feel the deliberateness Chizuru had put into choosing this particular order. She probably wanted to put the most sociable of us on the ends for the sake of the other three guests who’d be sitting at the same table.

A group of three women soon joined us to take those very seats, and we greeted them as pleasantly as proper adults and members of society should. They introduced themselves as friends of Chizuru’s from high school, and we similarly revealed that we were friends of hers from college. Apparently, they’d heard a college friend had been the one who drew the welcome board. They asked if it was our doing, and we all immediately pointed to Hanao. They praised her profusely for how great it turned out, and she intoned a very obviously forced and fake “Thank you!” purely out of obligation.

Just like we’d done at my own wedding, the name placards for each guest were folded in half, with the inside of each bearing a handwritten message from the bride. This made it the first time I’d ever received anything resembling a personal letter from Chizuru in all of the years that I’d known her. Mine read:

“Thanks so much for coming! It’s thanks to your help and counsel on so many things that I’ve been able to make it to this special and wonderful day. You and your wife should really come get dinner with us sometime—we’ll make it a double date! Here’s hoping we can stay good friends forever.”

Seeing how hard she’d tried to cram everything into such a limited amount of space felt more emblematic of Chizuru’s personality than any of the words she’d written.

I looked to my right and saw Hibiki was looking at his placard now too. After reading it in silence for a while, he glanced over at me, and in a soft voice made a snarky quip about how she can “fake sounding grown-up pretty well when she wants to.” It seemed he’d come away with the same general impression as me, even though she’d obviously written different notes for each of us.

We both put our placards in our chest pockets so we wouldn’t forget them. Not long after that, some staff members came out to take everyone’s drink orders. They suggested champagne for anyone looking to indulge today, so I gladly went with that.

“Ooh, hey!” Hanao exclaimed with glee. “They’ve got foie gras!”

Like me, she’d been looking through the menu as a way of killing time before the reception proper began. I’d never eaten foie gras with her before in the past, yet for some reason I felt confident she’d enjoy it.

The music to which the bride and groom entered was not “Honey Moon Song” by a flood of circle, much to my relief. But when those big double doors opened to the tune of the classic wedding song everyone and their mother knows, they were greeted by such thunderous applause one might be forgiven for mistaking this for a rock concert.

There was a moment, amid my wallowing in worry and self-doubt, that I caught a glimpse of both a very happy Chizuru and a grinning, applauding Hibiki in my field of view at the same time. And in that moment, I could tell it really wasn’t my place to meddle and hope for a different outcome than the one they’d both chosen for themselves. From then on, I decided to just enjoy the reception as earnestly as I could.

We all gave the newly wedded couple a toast, and the festivities began. When the first hors d’oeuvres came out and happened to be a variety of pickles, I took great pleasure in watching Hibiki scrunch up his face with every bite as he forced himself to eat them. Meanwhile, we started sharing our favorite anecdotes and memories of Chizuru with the three girls who were sitting at our table. Apparently, she’d become something of a legend at her high school when, after being bullied by a female upperclassman for weeks, she stomped into her classroom and socked the other girl square in the face. Taiga-san went, “Yep, that sounds like her, all right,” and the rest of us in her college friend group all nodded in agreement.

The guest of honor’s speech was given by a mutual superior of the bride and groom. They spoke at length about how Chizuru’s passion, drive, and charming personality made her deeply loved by clients and colleagues alike. As for the groom, they described him as someone with great people skills, both approachable and highly adaptable, which had earned him the undying trust of his seniors and superiors. In short, they were pretty much a perfect match for each other.

After the final guest speech by one of the groom’s friends from elementary school, the newlyweds disappeared backstage to change outfits. In the interim, a video started playing on the big projector and showed videos and photos from their childhoods, as well as the early days of their relationship. When we made one of these for my own wedding, I remembered thinking “Does anyone even care enough to watch these things?” But in this case, as someone who’d only known Chizuru after she’d already turned eighteen, I was definitely curious to see her as a little tyke and learn a bit more about the man she’d chosen for her husband.

The part that drew the biggest reaction from the crowd by far was a scene we knew all too well: Chizuru performing on stage in a leather jacket, then crying after the set, linking arms with her fellow bandmates from the music club, Hibiki included. This video created quite a stir among the wedding guests from her company, who apparently weren’t familiar with this side of Chizuru at all. But it relieved me to hear her high school friends, at least, knew this was the real Chizuru. They laughed along with us at the idea that she was a wolf in sheep’s clothing around all of her coworkers.

The groom, meanwhile, seemed to live a very active lifestyle. His side of the slideshow featured many photos from his college days when he apparently went on quite a few backpacking trips. There were photos of him in foreign countries, smiling and laughing with the locals, with nothing but a rucksack on his back. This drew some mildly surprised reactions from his colleagues as well, and I could only imagine his closer friends were marveling at his ability to mask his true self at work as well.

“Feel like you and him would get along,” I said to Taiga-san.

“Yeah, I’ll have to drag him and Chizuru out on a hike one of these days,” he replied.

This was the sort of idle chitchat we made while sipping our highballs and watching the montage video. I could totally see Taiga-san going up to the groom and trying to exchange contact info at the after-party.

Another seat down from Taiga-san was Hanao, who was holding her glass of white wine up high as if asking for another refill. She could probably still get away with a few more drinks before I had to step in and cut her off. Probably. Mai-tan, meanwhile, was chatting pleasantly with the girl sitting beside her whom she’d just met, presumably giving their respective impressions of the video playing on screen. She was a socialite, to be sure.

I didn’t really speak to Hibiki for the duration of the video, as I felt like any possible reaction I could give might potentially come across as inconsiderate. There was no need for me to concern myself with whatever he was feeling or going through deep down.

Once the montage was over, the bride and groom reentered the stage in fresh garb. Despite teasing her about it prior to the event, Chizuru had not, in fact, chosen to change into a leather jacket. She instead wore a striking royal blue dress that complemented her strong facial features beautifully.

It was time for another round of photo ops, now that the bride and groom had changed clothes, this time with guests at all the different tables. During the previous mingling hour, we’d deliberately not approached the bride and groom in order to give guests who hadn’t been able to attend the ceremony a chance to greet and congratulate them, so this was effectively our first and best opportunity to interact with the newlyweds.

To kick things off, the bride and groom went around to all the different tables to smile and greet everyone, starting with the family member tables just off to the side of the stage. Many brides would probably start crying at this point, but Chizuru simply hugged her parents with a beaming smile on her face, which was nice in its own way. I was also surprised to see her similarly hug the groom’s mother, but that was just because my own family had a different dynamic where such a thing would never happen.

After they finished taking photos at the family members’ tables, and greeted some of the groom’s friends at theirs, Chizuru finally dragged her husband over to our table. She made eye contact with each and every one of us as she thanked us for coming. Then she started taking photos with her high school friends first. She chatted casually with the three girls despite only having a limited amount of time, and the professional photographer captured those moments for posterity.

When it was our turn, Hibiki and Mai-tan rose from their seats to bookend the bride and groom, who were standing in the center of the photo behind the rest of us who remained seated. I would later learn from Mai-tan that she had stressed herself out quite a bit about this particular arrangement, as she wasn’t sure who should be standing or sitting where, aside from the bride and groom being in the center. In the end, she apparently decided to stand next to the groom herself, so that the back row would “be in boy-girl-boy-girl order.” Taiga-san chuckled at this and said, “Yeah, might be a little too color-unbalanced if you put all the guys together, since we’re all wearing black.”

I didn’t have to do anything but sit there and scoot my seat over a bit. As she stood behind me, Chizuru clapped me on the shoulder.

“Have to say, the white necktie matches your beard pretty well,” she said.

“I can be relatively stylish when I want to,” I said. “You look great too. Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

This brief and candid interaction was pretty standard fare for us. When the groom came over to greet me, I gave him a proper congratulations for good measure.

There was no need to eavesdrop on the conversation taking place behind me.

“Thanks for coming today,” said Chizuru. “Sorry I forgot my leather jacket.”

“Hey, congrats,” said Hibiki. “And no worries. Glad you managed to find a dress that’ll match that towel I bought you.”

“I actually brought it with me today, believe it or not.”

They were interacting just like normal too. I felt silly for ever thinking the bond the two of them had built together might crumble due to some half-baked plan we thoughtlessly threw together. Really, that might be the single best summation of the strength of their friendship I could think of. So when she introduced him to her husband by simply saying they “used to play in a band together,” followed by a whopping thirty seconds of surface-level small talk, I got a little emotional—to the point that I wanted to stand up and clarify myself that the description in no way did their relationship justice. But I figured that was probably just the marketing copywriter in me talking, and decided to let it go. Today wasn’t about me, after all.

We all promised to reconvene later, and the bride and groom moved on to the next table. Hanao, who was in much higher spirits than usual, urged the trio of girls she’d just met to indulge with her and order new drinks. Then the whole table made another toast to the newlyweds’ future.

Once photo time was over, it was time for the next item on the agenda, which was a bit of musical entertainment. Two of the girls from our table, as well as three of the groom’s male friends from another table, stood up and walked onto the stage. One of the men played piano, while the other four sang in harmony. To be honest, I’d always had this impression of wedding entertainment music being the sort of thing you just had to kind of awkwardly smile at as you waited for it to be over. But I actually found the little coed choir’s performance quite spellbinding, surprisingly. But of course Chizuru would have musically talented friends—what had I expected?

After a huge round of applause, the choir disbanded and returned to their seats. Next, it was time for the bride to read her letter of gratitude to all of the guests.

To be honest, I’d been kind of looking forward to this part. Especially because, mostly, all the bride got to do at the reception was engage in performative traditions with her spouse, or react and give thanks to the guests who come up to offer their congratulations. But this would be all Chizuru. Finally, it was her time to shine.

As she stood there on stage behind the microphone stand, I could almost see her wearing a leather jacket over her fancy blue dress. And I suspected I might not have been the only one who felt that way. Maybe everyone could see it, not just our college group of friends. She just gave off a very punk rock aura.

It had been a long time since I heard her take a deep breath in front of the mic like this. I knew it was supposed to be her moment to thank all of her friends and family, everyone who’d supported her from the day she was born to the day she became a bride. It was supposed to encompass her entire lifetime thus far—and yet, try as I might, all I could think about was this past year. From the day she told me about her engagement, while we were playing games online, to now.

“Thank you all so much for taking the time out of your busy schedules to be here today, to attend this wedding reception. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to be able to celebrate this day with all of my dearest friends and family.”

She didn’t even bother reading from the letter she was holding. It remained in her hands, which were folded at her waist. Instead, she spoke confidently and with purpose while gazing out at the faces of every single person in the crowd.

It really did feel like she was about to perform on stage.

“Today, I’ve received so many well-wishes and words of congratulations—from family members, from friends, and even from coworkers—all people who’ve supported me day in and day out throughout my life. Only now do I finally realize just how blessed I truly am.”

She made eye contact with me as well.

“It is for that reason I have vowed to myself, just now, that I will do everything I can to ensure the two of us can forge a bond with each other that’s even deeper, and build a future that’s even brighter than either of us have ever known or imagined—as my way of proving to everyone here that this moment, this day, is irreplaceable to me. And yes, I know the road to get there won’t be an easy one. But I sincerely hope you’ll all continue to watch over us as we stumble and find our way down it. Because all I want in life is for the two of us to keep on growing, side by side, as we walk this road together. Your continued support and prayers for our happiness truly mean the world to me.”

It was at this point I realized this speech was a two-parter—Chizuru finally unfolded the letter she’d been holding in her hands and started reading off it. But even then, her voice remained as passionate as a live event emcee, and she still regularly looked up at the crowd with an intensity in her gaze that couldn’t be overstated. She was baring her heart to the entire crowd, and didn’t once falter. She had guts, that’s for sure.

“Now, if you’ll allow me to take just a bit of time for my own personal matters, I’d like to read out a letter I’ve written to my parents and to my brother.”

The letter to her family members was genuinely quite heartwarming. In it, she expressed her gratitude, while also belatedly apologizing for a few specific instances when she’d caused no shortage of trouble for them as a young girl. All in all, you could tell from the way she’d written it that their family maintained a very healthy and strong relationship to this day, even now that she was living on her own. And, as she’d promised in advance, she didn’t shed a single tear throughout—though I nearly cried. But I resisted the urge, knowing she’d tease me about it until the end of my days if I did.

As the crowd applauded, the bride and groom each presented bouquets of flowers to their parents. Then the groom delivered his closing remarks, which brought the reception to a close.

“Pretty nice reception,” I said aloud as they exited the stage. But neither of the men sitting beside me said a word in response; Taiga-san was in the middle of taking a big drink of water, and Hibiki was reading the message on his name placard again. Which, fair enough, I could only blame myself for my own poor timing.

It was now time for the bride and groom and their parents to see off the guests, as was customary. Chizuru had told me in advance we’d be getting little gifts on our way out: so-called “­wedding favor” cards that had become quite popular lately and were effectively catalogs that allowed the recipient to choose what gift they wanted from a given selection. This was a great idea, actually—so much so that I wished we’d thought of it for my own wedding. They were definitely much more convenient than a gift bag you’d have to lug around—especially for guests planning to attend the after-party, or for company bigwigs who had to attend several weddings like this in a given year.

Our group waited for the right moment, then stood up from our table and joined the crowd heading for the exit. I offered my congratulations to their family members, none of whom I’d met before, and received my card from Chizuru. Then, I shook the groom’s hand and politely told him it had been a lovely reception. Unlike the deadbeats at my table, he actually gave me a proper response.

And so I left the venue in a rather merry and celebratory mood, all things considered. It was enough to make me wonder how I’d ever been nervous that morning.

The after-party wasn’t set to begin for another two hours.

This was an optional event that had been put together by a group of four organizers—two friends of the bride, and two friends of the groom. To no one’s surprise, Mai-tan had been selected as the leader of the group. In the interim between the reception and the after-party, she had a lot of preparations she needed to make, so we left her behind while the rest of us went bowling at Taiga-san’s suggestion. Hanao happened to be on fire tonight with her two-handed throws, while Hibiki was clearly not playing his best, which resulted in him having to pay for her game as well as his own.

With tired arms, we returned to the wedding venue, where the celebratory mood of the reception still lingered in the air. As usual for these types of things, most of the couple’s coworkers, superiors, and immediate family members hadn’t stuck around, while friends and colleagues from other departments who unfortunately didn’t make the guest list due to space or schedule constraints had shown up specifically for the after-party.

I was glad Mai-tan had been chosen to emcee, because her speaking voice over a microphone was very pleasant to listen to. I indulged in the all-you-can-drink bar, played some bingo, and during the more extended social hour with the bride and groom, I took plenty of photos with Chizuru, who’d now changed into a light pink dress. At one point, Hanao was approached by one of Chizuru’s junior colleagues who’d been working reception at the wedding, and who claimed to be her biggest fan. Since the alcohol had her in a very good mood, Hanao gladly signed the girl’s phone case for her. The faint background music for the after-party was a playlist comprised primarily of rock band music, and I was fairly certain I heard some a flood of circle in there, but I didn’t know the song.

Thankfully, all of the niggling doubts and meddlesome thoughts that had been plaguing me this past year seemed to have left. I didn’t feel any of them now.

This realization came as such a relief that, as soon as Kii-san left our table, I couldn’t help but get up and sneak out to the smoking area. I knew one had to exist somewhere in the venue, as I’d seen Taiga-san disappear for a few minutes earlier too.

It turned out that the lone ashtray was behind the building, near the parking lot. In the cool night air, I exhaled a thin, wispy trail of smoke from my IQOS. Feeling slightly tipsy, I gazed up at the moon and thought to myself, thanks again for the clear weather today—as though the moon could read my thoughts and that we talked like this all the time.

Though I was reluctant to cut my smoke break short, I didn’t want to linger too long and miss any major events at the after-party. You never knew what might happen at those, after all. And so I shook off the urge to light up again and hurried back inside.

I’d been planning to head straight back to my seat, but just as I passed through the automatic doors, I spotted Hibiki walking toward me from the bathroom to my left.

“Hibiki.” I called him by name because he apparently didn’t notice me even though he was only a few steps away. This was probably because he was reading something in the palm of his hand, which he promptly slid into his chest pocket right after I succeeded in getting his attention.

“Smoke break, huh?” he asked.

“Just don’t tell my wife if you see her.”

“I promise you she already knows, man.”

We shared a laugh, then headed back to the event floor, where we grabbed some fruits and cheese from the refreshments table and sat back down. As I stabbed my fork into a piece of pineapple (which absolutely no one else was eating, apparently), it occurred to me that Hibiki had probably been reading his name placard message from the reception yet again.

The party was nearly at its end. Mai-tan grabbed the microphone and revealed the existence of a mysterious “video message” that had been sent to the venue—which apparently even the bride and groom didn’t know anything about, judging from the way they looked at one another. The video began to play, projected onto the venue’s white walls. It opened with a closeup of a woman (the sender, apparently) who introduced herself with a laugh as not only a friend of Chizuru’s, but also someone who had a teacher-student relationship with the groom. Beside her was a tiny infant sleeping in a crib—the birth had apparently coincided too close to the wedding date, which had forced her to reluctantly turn down the invitation. As the whole venue was enveloped in a warm, fuzzy feeling at the sight of the baby’s peaceful, sleeping face, I could have sworn I saw Chizuru discreetly reach up to wipe a tear from her eye.

The final order of business for the after-party was a few words of thanks from the bride and groom before taking a group photo of them with everyone in attendance. They spoke much more candidly now than at the reception, and Chizuru did not seem nearly as much like a rock star; I assumed she must have really psyched herself up for that. We all gave a round of applause, not only to the newlyweds but to the event planners as well.

After three shutter-clicks of everyone crammed together in a fairly tight space, the full program for Chizuru’s wedding day was officially over.

“Let’s all go to a sports bar where we can get chatted up by some foreigner, asking ‘You all are dressed up for a happy day today?’ or something,” Hanao said as we stepped out of the venue. Her face clearly showed she was several times more inebriated than she would normally be by this point in the night. And yet, despite this extremely puzzling proposal, no one objected to the idea. Taiga-san was all for it, and I was in high enough spirits I was willing to go along. And Hibiki never objected to anything. We also had to kill some time anyway if we wanted to show our appreciation to the bride, groom, and Mai-tan, who were still hanging back to clean things up at the venue.

“Um, excuse me!” said a voice, as I was looking up nearby bars on my phone.

“Oh, hey,” Hibiki called back.

I turned around to see that it was the group of three women who’d been sitting at our table at the reception. The girl who called out had been the one who’d been sitting directly beside Hibiki, and she was standing a few steps in front of the other two.

Normally, in these sorts of situations, you’d expect a bit of stammering or probing to gauge how the other might feel first, but this was one of Chizuru’s friends—naturally, she was clear and confident in her intent. She stated plainly that she found Hibiki to be quite charming and attractive, and wanted to exchange contact info with him.

Personally, I found that sort of straightforwardness quite refreshing. I hated it when people tried to be vague about it, inviting everyone to a “group chat” they’d never realistically use as a way to conceal their intentions. If you wanted to ask someone out, beating around the bush like that was just plain inefficient.

After a bit of hesitation (and ignoring a wolf whistle by Hanao), Hibiki accepted the girl’s offer and traded LINE info with her. As you might expect, we teased him relentlessly about this as we headed to the bar for another round of drinks. But he just shrugged us off with a wry smirk. He seemed more concerned with the group of girls than us.

“You think they’ll tell her to bail on me because I hesitated for a second?” he asked.

“What? Nah, I highly doubt it,” I said. “I think a little uncertainty at first is totally understandable when someone approaches you out of the blue like that. Not that I would know—I’ve never had a girl hit on me before!”

Hibiki just let out a weak little chuckle, but didn’t make any sort of quip in return. He was being awfully docile—though I didn’t suspect anything was wrong. He was probably just feeling tired after a very long day. Hell, even I felt pretty exhausted, and I hadn’t even done any behind-the-scenes work like Mai-tan had. I’d just been celebrating. And I was sure Hibiki probably felt several times more emotionally spent than I did.

I’d have to make sure to get him home safely tonight, even if he got blackout drunk. But I kept this resolution to myself, as I felt like saying it aloud might downplay just how much I genuinely respected him for making it through the day.

The sports bar I found on Yelp was pretty busy when we got there, but we still managed to find some open seats. We immediately agreed it might be a good idea to move somewhere with a more relaxed atmosphere once Mai-tan came to join us, but ­decided to order a round of drinks for now anyway. Beside me at the bar were two middle-aged men bickering about work—neither of them were overly friendly foreigners, sadly.

For the umpteenth time today, we clinked our glasses together and made a toast. Not a moment later, Hanao immediately started pestering Hibiki about texting that “girl who wants the D,” but he shrugged her off and stated that if he sent the first text he’d basically be agreeing to go out with her right off the bat.

In fiction, you often heard the phrase “like nothing had ever happened” used to describe scenes like this one, where everything seemed to have gone back to normal after a period of conflict or adversity. But for me, as I sat watching my friends smiling and laughing with each other like this, I felt quite the opposite: We’d been united by the adversity we’d faced, and we’d all come back from the brink of death bearing the same scars.

Obviously, that wasn’t strictly true. We’d all had our own agendas, and only cooperated when it suited us, keeping secrets and deceiving each other when it didn’t. But even so, it felt like a special kind of bond we now shared.

For all our scheming and speculating about Chizuru and Hibiki’s relationship, we were all here together now celebrating our friend’s special day. And the next time one of us got married, we’d probably get together again and bicker about it, but still end up smiling and laughing with each other when the day finally came. Whether that would be Hibiki, or Mai-tan, or Taiga-san, who knew—maybe none of them would ever get married. It could also be when one of us became a parent, or achieved a dream. Honestly, it didn’t even need to be anything special. The point was that it felt like our bond was pretty much indestructible now, since we made it through this ordeal together—despite all of our own feelings and misgivings about it. But maybe that was just part of growing older: You learned to take the good with the bad and relish the experience regardless.

I lifted my glass—not to take a drink of my highball but to make a secret, silent toast to our whole friend group, including Chizuru and Mai-tan, who weren’t here. Both of their operations had now officially reached their epilogues.

About thirty minutes later, Mai-tan got in touch, so we decided to move to a different bar. I made a quick phone call to an izakaya I’d been to for a client dinner once before, and thankfully they had a private room open. We decided to celebrate with the head organizer of tonight’s festivities there.

Hanao offered to pay the cover charge and our single round of drinks at this sports bar, since she hadn’t had to pay when we went bowling earlier. We gratefully accepted her offer. As she went to the register to settle our tab, Taiga-san excused himself to use the bathroom. And so Hibiki and I were left alone for a short while, sitting side by side at the bar.

“Something tells me Hanao’s not gonna let this night end anytime soon,” I said.

“Hey, nothing wrong with that,” replied Hibiki. “Gotta live a little sometimes.”

This was a totally normal exchange for us, with no deeper meaning whatsoever.

And there was no deeper meaning behind the next thing I did either.

Hibiki had dropped something.

He’d pulled his phone out of his chest pocket—maybe to text someone, I couldn’t say. Maybe his fingers were wet from the condensation on his glass, as they happened to catch something else, and I watched as Hibiki’s name placard from the reception fell to the barroom floor. It landed closer to my stool than his.

And all I did was reach down and try to pick it up for him.

“Karin!” he shouted abruptly, scaring me half to death just as I pinched my fingers around it. Wondering what was the matter, I quickly sat up straight and looked over at him. The crazed look in his eyes was unlike any I’d ever seen from him before.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I handed him the folded-up placard.

Suddenly returning to his senses, Hibiki looked away and took a deep breath before he took the placard back and apologized.

I had a whole heap of questions as to what just transpired, but before I could ask a single one of them, Hibiki gave me a very puzzling query of his own.

“Wait,” he said. “So you wouldn’t mind if someone else read yours?”

I was only barely able to intuit that he meant my name placard message.

“Sure, I don’t see why not,” I said. “You want to read it?”

I plucked my placard out from my own chest pocket and held it out to him. Hibiki hesitated for a distinct moment before he took it and then handed me his own.

Just what in the world had gotten into him? Had Chizuru written him some totally scandalous secret message or something? Suddenly feeling a bit anxious, I flipped open the name placard labeled “Narahara Hibiki.”

But even after reading it twice over, it felt—with all due respect to Chizuru and Hibiki—quite plain and run-of-the-mill, as far as thank-you letters went. It was basically just your standard fare, “thanks for coming today, hope we can stay friends forever” message like mine had been, with just a hint of Chizuru’s usual cheeky flair.

Try as I might, I couldn’t read into it any further than that. There was no secret meaning to be found here, as far as I could tell. And yet, when Hibiki handed me back my own placard, I caught a brief glimpse of his expression, which by no means seemed like something a simple message could have elicited.

I wanted to probe him further about it, but was thwarted by Hanao returning from paying our tab. As soon as Hibiki turned to face her, his expression was already back to normal again. It would have been weird and unnatural for me to bring it back up.

But to me, at least, it had looked like the expression of a child thrown into a panic, right after they’d been caught in the act of making some huge mistake.

Just what in the hell had happened to make him react like that?