Not a Date

The weekend came like a bullet train. He stood at the exit Number Three, dressed in a striped dark navy jinbei with sneakers. The station was buzzing with people heading to the riverbank for the festival. He looked at the station clock and he was twenty minutes early.

He wore Suiryu-no-oroko as an ornament; following the rule of keeping omamori company to not neglect the spirit within.

“Minachi!” She called him out from a distance.

She was wearing a bright orange and red flowered kimono with large curls with a twin tails. She almost fumbled her way to him with a small gait and uneven sound clicks of geta.

Total opposite of Yukiharu-san.

“Did you wait long?” She asked, catching her breath, and fanned herself.

“Not long, you’re early yourself.” He added. “We’re hours ahead of the meeting time.”

“I know, I just… thought we could.” Sayuri-san paused, fidgeted her obi. “… look around the shrines and stalls and stuff...”

Ryuji was used to this by now. Her awkward bluntness. Either the boldness or obliviousness, they looked like a couple more and more as of late since the attackers three weeks ago. Yukiharu-san and Masaki-san had distanced themselves since then and was absent half of the time. Their grades in the ranks dropped significantly.

The police never got back to him about the incident.

“I guess we can’t do much until Yukiharu-san and Masaki-san’s available after their family function.”

“They’d better show up.” She pouted and placed her finger on her mole. Ryuji scoffed at her expression.

“What?”

“Nothing, wanna head to the Sensoji Temple first?”

“Then let’s hit the Sakurabashi Bridge!”

“That’s far.”

“I can make it!”

She tugged his sleeve and clacked her way towards the Nakamise shopping district.

This was not a date.

The streets were bustling with people to the point of exhaustion; the air felt thick with heat, chatter, and the drifting smell of grilled squid. The fireworks wouldn’t start for another six hours, and their meeting location was all the way at the park, swallowed somewhere beyond the sea of festival-goers.

“Tacchi… can we hold hands… it’s too crowded.” Sayuri tugged the sleeve she’d been clinging to since they left the station.

Ryuji’s eyes darted around, bouncing from face to face, from couples in matching yukatas to families weaving through the crowd. Everywhere he looked, people were holding hands—laughing, leaning into each other, moving like they belonged. The sight made his head swim.

“Don’t be silly, we might get separated,” she muttered, cheeks blooming red.

Dubious.

He held his breath and took her hand. Her palm was tender and warm, far warmer than his own clammy grip. She immediately tightened her hold, almost relieved, and pulled him forward with surprising energy. They drifted from stall to stall, her geta clicking unevenly against the pavement.

Sayuri kept checking her wallet, weighing it in her hands as if the coins inside were evaporating with every step. She didn’t open it—just judged its heaviness, frowning each time.

Ryuji wondered how Yukiharu-san would browse this busy area. Probably with more grace. Probably without tripping over her own geta. Probably without needing to hold someone’s hand.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be here in a few hours,” Sayuri said without looking back. “Just a few hours.”

The second hand of the nearby clock tower seemed to stab forward, each tick a small prick against his chest. The crowd pressed in, warm and loud, and he let her pull him deeper into it.

She dragged him to every stall in the shopping district and snack vendor. But the biggest part was at the temple past the giant gate with the enormous lantern hung at the gate.

Sayuri rushed over to the fortune readings.

“Tacchi, let’s get some of our fortunes read!” she beamed.

“It’s not even new years…” his words had no power, like rest of his body as well. She had more stamina than Masaki-san.

She got her first read.

Her brows furrowed and lips wrinkled.

“This is a test pull.” She folded the reading neatly and drew ten more.

That’s some bad luck.

She tied all eleven reads to the tree with a cheerful hum, then returned to Ryuji.

“What did you get?” She asked.

“I haven’t… after seeing your pulls, I shouldn’t do it.”

“I drew all the bad luck out for you.” She pushed Ryuji to the station. The staff gave him an uneasy smile.

“I hope you get a better fortune than your girlfriend.” The attendant smiled. Sayuri-san’s face turned redder than her dress. He was sure his face was just as red as hers.

Great Curse - storm lies ahead, heed with caution.

He pulled the second one.

Great Fortune - Keep up the hard work, the fruits of diligence will soon ripe.

He showed both to Sayuri-san and her face brightened.

“Let’s hang the other one.” She skipped over to the tree and nearly fell if it wasn’t for his holding.

He grabbed her by her waist and pulled her in to steady her before he had a chance to think. Her squeaky yelp, her shampoo mixed with chemicals for her curled hair hit his nose hard.

Sayuri’s face was too close and flushed red. He quickly released his hand.

Then strut to the tree to tie the great curse fortune with his breath held. He returned to her just as fast as he stepped away from her.

She was fixing her hair and examining herself through the pocket mirror.

They took a short break before crossing the bridge once they left the temple. Ryuji leaned by the garden rails and looked down at the two plastic bags: senbei, candied apple and other sweets filled the first bag. The second bag had little trinkets. Key ring of torii, red lantern, kitsune and Noh mask. He wondered which was for Yukiharu-san. Likely the torii, or could be the red lantern. Then who was the Noh mask?

“Tacchi, what you thinking?” Sayuri-san returned with a pink cotton candy size bigger than her curly haired head. She clacked over and almost shoved the fuzzy sugar ball to his face.

“Nothing, you want to sit?” he side stepped away from the pink cloud. His eyes looked down at her feet.

“Were you thinking about her?” she tore a piece of the cotton candy. “Just… deal with me for a while before we meet up. If you want…” She trailed her words.

He couldn’t hear the second part as a large crowd of people passed by with children.

A red oni mask in the crowd stared at Ryuji.

Memory of last month’s assault at the school grounds. The screams, the burning pain sensation on his shoulder. Ryuji’s muscles tensed up. Hand drew to his omamori. The crowd shuffled over and the mask was gone from his view. He scanned the area but nothing.

“Sorry, can you say it again?” Ryuji exhaled once he confirmed no oni mask in the area.

“No…. Nothing. This place is rather crowded.” She fanned herself if a folding fan, she didn’t have it earlier.

“Want to take a quiet walk under the bridge to cool off before we go see her at the park?” She fanned herself.

She looked she was about to cry.

Or he thought.

They were holding hands again, but her hand felt colder, mildly trembling. She must have noticed it too and squeezed his hand. Her head was looking away from Ryuji and lingered over a couple holding hands and laughing. The riverside towards the bridge thinned with fewer people than top of the bridge.

“After this, just after this,” she muttered softly under her breath, almost inaudible.

A group of girls in yukata with folding fans scanned Ryuji and Sayuri-san. Their eyes locked in on their held hands. He felt her grip tightening.

He admitted what this really was.

Something was off. Her overwhelming personality felt forced. As if she’s doing it to test Ryuji whether he likes her or Yukiharu-san.

The two arrived at the small tunnel going under the bridge and there were still too many walking through it for Sayuri-san.

Sayuri-san whipped her head to look for more secluded area.

“Sayuri-san…” He wanted to ask. She’s been pushing her to Yukiharu-san and what this was all about.

“Wait a moment, please.” Her voice hitched after a short pause before the word please. He followed her hand guide to under the bridge with concrete tiles and handful of people sitting under the dank smell of mucky river.

She let go of his hand. Sayuri’s fingers lingered and ran though his palms before she completely let go.

Back turned against Ryuji, she looked over the river where the park and Yukiharu-san and Masaki-san would be. He saw her hands on her dress tighten and the flowers patterns crumpled under her grip.

It dawned on Ryuji.

She was about to ask him something that would change how everything would be.

Her.

Him.

Yukiharu-san.

“Tacchi…” She said, still looking at the river. “If things were different…”

She slowly turned to face him.

Her eyes were tearing.

Ryuji did not have the answer to whatever she was about to ask.

“Would you…”

“Sorry to barge in.”

Curt guttering voice cut the silence. A red oni masked man appeared behind Sayuri-san, placing his hand over her right shoulder.

Sayuri’s face shifted from a surprise to pale as snow.

“I need her for a moment.”