Released – Chapter 15

Miko is a little green. I honestly thought she was going to go into this wedding with no qualms or cold feet, but no, it’s not looking that way at all.

I had every reason to suspect she was fine. She was a brilliant hostess at the rehearsal dinner last night. She laughed and talked to everyone, and she held Yoichi’s hand whenever he was next to her.

I sat with Aunt Kimie and Lomo and caught up with them. I’ve missed them terribly and chatting online is not enough. Helena, Risa, Beni, and I helped make sure everything went smoothly with dinner and dessert afterwards. Risa did her best to only interact with Beni or Helena, and she avoided eye contact with me the entire time. She is exceptionally good at the cold shoulder.

At the end of the evening, when we dropped their gifts off in their apartment, Miko was in happy spirits, and I had no worries about her.

Now, she looks like she’s going to puke.

“Miko, are you okay? Do you want me to get you a glass of water or something?”

“No, I… maybe I just need to put my head between my knees.”

I let Miko bend over but push the wedding kimono out of the way so she doesn’t get any of her makeup on the white silk. It’s a good thing she’s not wearing the heavy black wig yet. That would have fallen on the floor.

She is already dressed in the shiromuku she borrowed for today, a silk satin, white kimono with the most gorgeous cranes and bamboo stalks woven into the fabric. The whole garment is exceptionally heavy, though, so I hope she doesn’t pass out once we’re outside. The temperature has already hit thirty-five degrees under the domes today. Cool breezes will be blowing up the sidewalk grates as Nishikyō recycles air past the man-made caves over a kilometer deep into the ground. Hopefully in the late afternoon, the temp will get back down into the low thirties again.

But Miko is already sweating in the cool comfort of Mariko’s apartment. Mrs. Tanaka, Miko’s mother, is fussing over the lighter silk kimono Miko will change into directly after the ceremony, and Mariko is doling out cold barley tea to Risa and Beni who are here to help. Helena is on her way. She had to go back to Ku 5 to pick up a gift from her parents who are also not attending the wedding today.

Crouching down next to Miko, I squeeze her knee. “What’s the matter?”

“I just don’t want anything to go wrong.”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong. You’re having a nice little ceremony with your family and closest friends and then off to the banquet hall to smile and be pretty. It’s going to be fine.” I rub her back, up and down, up and down. “You’re not worried about marrying Yoichi, are you?”

“No! No. Gods, I love him. I really do. I can’t believe I needed a matchmaker to find him, but I’m so thankful I did.”

“Good. Then don’t worry. It will be easy, I promise. We’ll walk to the temple. Everyone on the streets this morning will step aside and gape at how gorgeous you are —”

“Sanaa,” she says, grabbing my hand, “do you remember the time we were on our way to class and saw the wedding party walking to the temple… when we were, what? Ten?”

“I do,” I say, squeezing her hand and smiling at her. “I remember you saying how much you loved the white kimono and the hood and how dainty the bride’s steps were.”

“That’s going to be me in a little bit.” Miko’s eyes are focused far off, her voice hushed in awe. She’s finally coming around.

“The day will be over before you know it. We’ll get to the temple and meet up with everyone. You’ll be purified, drink the sake, bless the rings, kiss, and done. Photos, then party. Nothing to worry about, right?”

“Yes. Yes, it’ll be easy. You’re right, Sanaa. Nothing will go wrong.”

“Nothing. I swear it.”

I smile at her, smile at my gorgeous friend I’ve grown up with since I was small. She’s getting married today, and I’m so happy for her.

Mariko and Mrs. Tanaka come over to fix Miko’s makeup. She’s paler than usual, but, thankfully, it suits her. As they’re putting the black wig on her, a man who Miko hired to take photos interrupts to get a few shots.

Stepping out of the way, I smooth out the furisode I rented for today. It’s a traditional kimono with long sleeves that unmarried women wear for this kind of ceremony. The heavy silk material is bright blue with a falling water motif that starts on the upper left shoulder and cascades down to the hem. Stitches in silver and gold thread — I was enamored with it the moment I saw it.

The door chimes and Lucy enters the apartment in a dark green sleeveless dress with her red hair twisted up. Her bodyguards wait outside, and one of Sakai’s men waits next to them. He’ll carry all of our secondary kimonos and yukata that we’ll change into once we’re at the party. I say hi to Lucy as I struggle to hand off all the garment bags to the man who is waiting, and as he’s walking off with them, Helena comes bounding up the stairs.

“I’m here! Damn parents have no sense of urgency, I swear.”

“Good timing because we were just getting ready to walk out.” I lean in and hug her.

We wait at the door, the sea of people inside part, and Miko stands before us in her glorious white kimono, wearing the traditional black wig, and the large, white circular hood. She is smiling and happy, not a hint of the green that was there fifteen minutes ago.

Helena and I catch our breath and sigh. I wonder if Helena still sees the sweet little seven-year-old Miko I see when I close my eyes. The one who ran after the boys once school was out. The one who ate chocolate candies two at a time every Christmas. The one who held our hands and dragged us to the movies on the weekend. This Miko, the one about to get married, is another one I’ll remember forever.

—-

People stop in the street and smile, or nod and say “Congratulations” as we walk past. I don’t know if Miko has been at home practicing her little steps in those sandals for weeks but it looks like she was born to do it.

We round the corner with the temple in front of us by two blocks, and all the men in their black kimono and gray-striped hakama pants are waiting with the rest of the wedding party. The closer we get to Yoichi, the wider his smile becomes. A man stands next to them with the red umbrella I always associate with weddings. Though we have no need to shield the bride and groom from rain, the red umbrella is still significant to the ceremony. When standing in the streets anywhere in Nishikyō, if you see the red umbrella coming and a double line of people following, a bride will certainly be underneath it.

The priest stands at the front of the line and two temple maidens follow him in their temple garb, a white kimono and red, wide hakama pants. Yoichi stands next to Miko, her mother on the other side still holding her hand, and the man with the umbrella stands behind them. Sakai stands with Mariko, and Mr. Tanaka, Miko’s dad, stands on the other side. Jiro slides in next to me and holds my hand. I’m so nervous for Miko I could vomit, but his strong hand steadies me.

We’re all led into the courtyard to the thrumming of traditional drums and stringed instruments. Just a few days ago, we stood here after mourning Koichi. Now, a table has been set up covered in white cloth and cups sit upon it with a pot of rice wine next to them. Miko and Yoichi stand behind the table, and we all stand in front.

The ceremony is quiet once the music ceases. The priest blesses Miko and Yoichi while waving a big, fluffy white thing over them. One of the temple maidens lays out three cups of different sizes: small, medium, and large. I’m familiar with this ritual called san-san-kudo, three-three-nine times. The tradition is the bride and groom each take three sips from each of the three cups, going from smaller to larger cup, until each has consumed nine sips of rice wine. Nine is a lucky number for couples because it cannot be divided equally in two, and the number three is also lucky because it’s prime. So three, three times, is three times as lucky.

Miko is handed the smallest cup and takes three small sips. She gives it to Yoichi and he takes three sips. They repeat this with each cup, and then Sakai, Mariko, and Mr. and Mrs. Tanaka each step forward and share in the last of the largest cups. Their families are now linked.

I squeeze Jiro’s hand and smile up at him. He gazes down at me, sadness watering his eye with tears. Is he thinking of his father? Or that this could never be us? My smile dies. Before I get choked up, I turn my eyes to my feet, and Jiro squeezes my hand even harder. I won’t make it through this day without crying.

The priest motions to Jiro, and he lets go of my hand to step forward with the two rings, Miko’s ring that she’s been wearing since they were engaged and another plain one for Yoichi that was handed down through the family, too. It’s nice that the Nishikyō government never made people give up their wedding bands to be melted down for the precious metal we need nowadays. Some things are still sacred.

After a blessing is said over the rings, Yoichi places Miko’s on her left ring finger, and she does the same for him. They step back from the table and bow, and we all bow back.

Then they kiss.

Ah. It’s done. Relief washes over Miko’s face. See? I told her it would go well.

Now, photos, and then it’s time to party.