And to Her It Was Granted to Wear Fine Linen (1)

Something a little outside their expectations had cropped up along the way, but the formal meeting of the two families had, in any case, come to a safe end. Han Seoyeon, who had stepped out to look into the scream, returned before long and said that someone had merely cried out after taking a fall.

Turning it over, Hitomi decided that it certainly could have happened that way, and she nodded.

…At the time, that is.

"What you said yesterday—that nothing happened. That was a lie, wasn't it?"

"…How did you know?"

The moment Hitomi asked, Han Seoyeon confessed. There had been no particular reason to keep hiding it. Yesterday she had simply let the matter pass, so as not to break the mood, and so as not to worry Hitomi's parents, who had only just learned of the Hidden World. Now everything was already over, and those two were not here. The truth could be told as it stood.

"What do you mean, how did I know?"

And as for the fundamental question—just how Hitomi had seen through Seoyeon's lie in the first place—

"If truly nothing had happened, there is no way someone would show up the next day looking to apologize."

"……That is fair."

Seoyeon had no rebuttal for what followed, and her mouth simply closed. It was far too perfect an argument.

Where the two of them were looking, a woman stood. Her black kimono bore no lavish ornament, and yet it felt unmistakably expensive; set against that Japanese dress, however, was hair of a gold that called to mind a field of barley, wholly at odds with the garment. Fox ears rose from the top of her head as she hovered there, fidgeting, trying to read the room.

Even taken at its simplest—a guest at a restaurant very nearly caught up in a commotion mid-meal—it was more than enough to warrant an apology. All the more so when the establishment billed itself as the quietest and safest place in Japan. And yet, under any ordinary circumstances, she would never have gone so far as to come in person to offer one.

Specialist Officer for Extraordinary Disaster Countermeasures, Disaster Prevention Division, Department of Civil Protection and Disaster Management, Fire and Disaster Management Agency of Japan. In consideration of the peculiar nature of its duties, the organization commonly called the Onmyoryo was guaranteed authority beyond the law. Even setting that aside, it was, alongside the Self-Defense Forces, the most heavily armed body among Japan's domestic institutions. Its authority was not something one could ignore.

And the head of that absurd, extralegal organ was none other than her—the woman people usually called Ohirume.

Hers was a station from which most inconveniences could be crushed flat with a and what do you intend to do about it. In the great majority of cases she had no need to apologize in person at all, and once the political considerations were weighed, she was in no position to apologize carelessly to just anyone. Even so, Ohirume had come all the way to their home to offer Han Seoyeon words of apology.

The reason was simple. Set overwhelming violence on the other side of the table, and every political calculation lost its meaning.

Compared with the other eccentric Apostles, Han Seoyeon was several hundred times more reasonable—except that the moment a matter touched Ninomae Hitomi, she had a tendency to run wild. By any common-sense measure she would have written it off as a minor irritation during a family introduction and let it go. But if, by some one-in-a-thousand chance, she had decided that this incident had interfered with her time beside Hitomi? In the worst case, the dissolution of the Onmyoryo itself had to be kept in mind.

Ohirume had not the slightest wish to make an enemy of the Church.

Some might wonder whether, even if things went sour, it would only be Han Seoyeon running wild on her own. In practice it was nothing of the sort. An Apostle whose eyes had gone blank with the resolve to ram through anyone who stood in her way—Church included—could move the Church by herself. Should it come to that, the Church would have to choose: take the Apostle's side and go to war with the nation in question, or join that nation's government in putting the Apostle down. Consider which of the two was simpler, and it was obvious which way a Church that also possessed political power would lean.

Which was why Ohirume, for all her station, had come in person.

"I regard yesterday's affair with regret."

Even under these circumstances, the title of head of the Onmyoryo would not permit her to apologize in plain words. Han Seoyeon, experienced as she was, would of course read without difficulty what lay inside that expression of regret.

"Not at all. If you bowed your head over a matter this small, I would only be put in a difficult position."

Han Seoyeon answered her with a wry smile. At the time she had felt the faintest flicker of irritation toward the one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who had broken the mood ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the middle of the introduction, but looking back, it had not been so grave a problem. The phrasing was roundabout, yes—but when someone came all the way to one's home to apologize, there was no being angry about it.

Fortunate, from Ohirume's side. Had this not been accepted, her next step would have been a formal dogeza, forehead to the floor, with not a thought spared for the political fallout. Being shaken in the political sphere was, after all, several times preferable to being physically pulverized.

"As for the use of violence… it depends on the circumstances, of course. I am quite sure it was necessary."

"…Y-yes. Quite. It was necessary."

The words that followed, however, were ones from which Ohirume had no choice but to look away.

…In truth, she had simply been unable to hold her temper and struck the offender, all because they had dared to suggest making her into merchandise and selling her.

"In any case—th-this is a gift I brought, since I was coming."

"Ah, thank you."

Ohirume handed over the box she had brought, as if to turn the conversation aside. An elegant pattern covered it, and in one corner was written the name of a celebrated maker of traditional sweets. Just then Hitomi's familiar—this time, at last, the other one, and not Shirase Hikari—brought out tea, and they decided to have the gift alongside it.

"So… is there anything I might do for you, by way of an apology?"

"No. Really, I don't think it's something you need to worry over to that extent."

"This may be the only chance you will ever have to demand something of me, you realize? Ah, yes. If Margarita declines, what of your own opinion?"

"Me? I—nothing in particular comes to mind……."

The question had swung around to Hitomi, but nothing sprang to her mind either. And why would it? Making a little noise in a restaurant was hardly so great a sin as all that.

It was precisely there that a gap opened between how Han Seoyeon and Hitomi understood the matter, and how Ohirume did.

Of course, if the proprietor's doing had made someone scream and startled the other guests, that was plainly a fault and a nuisance—but it was the sort of thing settled with a word or two of apology on the spot. …If it had been an ordinary restaurant, that is. From Ohirume's point of view, choosing a restaurant under the Onmyoryo's management for a formal family introduction could only mean they had wanted service of a considerable standard. Otherwise, why seek out a venue reserved for VIPs of the Hidden World? The notion that a resident of the Surface World—extraordinary in connections, if in nothing else—might have made the reservation lightly, without even knowing the place had anything to do with the Hidden World, had never once crossed her mind.

"Then perhaps there is something I might assist with in the wedding preparations? I have a great many hands reaching into the government. I could extend considerable consideration, in this matter and that."

"The wedding preparations, you say?"

And so the tug-of-war between say something, anything and it's really quite all right went on, until Ohirume was the one to take the high ground first. The instant the wedding was mentioned, the light in Seoyeon's and Hitomi's eyes shifted. It was, unmistakably, the look of people who were interested.

So this is the part that weighs on them, is it?

Just as Ohirume had expected. They seemed to have little greed on their own account, but if it was for the other's sake, that was a somewhat different story. They were surely fretting over this and that, so the ceremony might be even a little more splendid.

"Yes. The venue, the dresses… there is a great deal that must be prepared, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is there not? I could introduce you to good shops."

"Ah… those two, at least, are already taken care of."

"Hm? The venue I might understand, but the dresses as well? Do people ordinarily move so quickly?"

"From what I found online, I heard one usually has them fitted starting several months before the wedding."

She had heard that preparations concerning the dress could begin as much as half a year out. Of course, in Seoyeon and Hitomi's case the decision had been made in considerable haste, so they had never had anything like that much time…

"Yes. Here it is."

Han Seoyeon rose for a moment, crossed to the living-room cabinet where the television sat, and brought back one of the small frames standing beside it.

Inside it, Hitomi stood in a dress of pure white, smiling radiantly.

Seeing it, Ohirume murmured, dazed.

"So a wedding dress is fitted far earlier than I had thought… I did not know."

Never mind wedding preparations—she was someone who could scarcely drop in on an actual wedding as she pleased. With a name of her weight, her mere attendance stiffened the air. At most she showed her face briefly at something like an imperial function and was gone.

"That's… a little sad, isn't it? Not even being free to join in on happy occasions."

"What of it? Such things are for humans to enjoy, are they not?"

"Ah, right. Then, Ohirume-san, wouldn't you like to attend the wedding too?"

"…Are you certain? You do not seem to understand yet, but I am rather an extraordinary personage, you realize?"

At that consideration Ohirume smiled faintly, and the words of refusal—

"What?! Is Ohirume-san someone even higher than His Holiness the Pope?! Higher than the Apostles, or Hyakuren?!"

"W-wait a moment. Is that the wedding guest list? You must be joking…?"

"?"

"You are serious……?"

Every reason to refuse having vanished, Ohirume's gaze swung left and right in bewilderment.

"Then… hm. I shall consider it. Is it truly all right if I come?"

"Yes, of course."

"Why wouldn't it be? In any case, even just to account for the political landscape, the Onmyoryo would have sent two or so people, would they not?"

"That is true. I had been planning to send that Koube."

"Then, shameless though it is, I shall attend."

Ohirume nodded at once. Hearing that answer, Hitomi broke into a bright smile, and Ohirume, for her part, managed a wry one. To hear I have never properly been to a wedding and immediately fuss over it as if it were her own affair—and toward her, of all people. The child who melted that Margarita really is something else, she thought, and took a sip of tea.

"That's wonderful. Oh, since you're looking at that, would you like to see the dress photos Shion took as well? See, when we were taking these, what Shion said was…"