Let No Man Put Asunder (1)

Click. Clack. On the screen, a gear slid home in the mechanism.

It was a machine that had sat dead for want of a single part. She pulled the lever, and this time the teeth caught—clack, clack—iron ringing against iron.

"No matter how I look at it, this puzzle's only here to pad the playtime."

Yu Hyena muttered it while she watched the door grind slowly open. She had bought the game because it billed itself as a two-player action-adventure. She had not expected them to wedge a puzzle stretch this long into the middle.

"Yeah?"

A save notification bloomed in the corner of the screen. A moment later, the words came through voice chat from her friend on the other end of the game.

Han Seoyeon. A Christian, baptized Margarita. Also an employee of Anathema Production.

"Can't be helped, then. Got a stream or something tomorrow?"

Say she had plans, and that was the first place the mind went. Hyena asked it offhand as she quit out of the game.

"Someone from church? Or the company?"

At Seoyeon's answer, she nodded.

"......Pardon?"

—And froze, just like that.

"Well... we went back and forth over whether she'd send a gift or not, and that was the end of it."

Han Seoyeon said it with a wry smile.

"So how did it turn out?"

"She deposited it by force. She still had my account number..."

Yu Hyena had been an online acquaintance since around the time Han Seoyeon first started playing computer games. Seoyeon hadn't been used to the internet back then, and there had been more than one occasion when Hyena helped her with a payment. She had dug up the account number from those days and, in the end, sent wedding money anyway. A hundred and ten thousand yen of it.

Seoyeon had taken one look at the sum and gone pale, protesting that even blood relatives weren't giving that much. Hyena's defense had been pure obstinacy: there were two of them, so she had simply given fifty-five thousand yen apiece.

And the reason it was a hundred and ten thousand, rather than a hundred thousand, was that wedding gifts were traditionally given in odd amounts in Japan. Or so Hyena claimed. It was the first Seoyeon had heard of it. She looked it up, and there really did seem to be such a custom.

"If I'd known it would turn out like this, I almost wish I'd sent her an invitation."

Seoyeon scratched her cheek, a little abashed. Of course, it was the sort of thing one could only say now.

At first the wedding was meant to be relatively modest, and calling someone who lived overseas had felt like a bit much. After that the guest list became what it became, the scale grew of its own accord, and every last attendee turned out to be from the hidden world—which made it difficult to casually invite anyone who lived on the surface.

Even so, watching her hand over a sum that large without a shred of hesitation, Seoyeon found herself thinking she ought to have brought her anyway, strain or no.

"What's already past can't be helped. We'll find some other way to repay her next time."

Hitomi ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠smiled, small and comforting, and squeezed Seoyeon's hand tight. The soft give of a pure-white glove traveled up through her skin.

"Yes. We'll have to."

Seoyeon smiled back, drew her lightly in by the shoulders, and with the hand Hitomi wasn't holding brushed the wedding dress in a soft, whispering rustle.

"Coveting the bride before we've even had the ceremony? Honestly, Shion."

Hitomi laughed, a teasing little chuckle.

Of course she didn't truly mean the scolding. They had already come much too far for a question of touching or not touching to mean anything. There was hardly a place on either body the other hadn't been shown. Strictly speaking, they had failed to keep chaste before marriage, and by the Church's measure that was a sin.

Then again, it was a rather late objection to raise about two women holding a ceremony at all. From the start, this was a marriage recognized neither by the laws of Japan nor by the canon law of the Roman Catholic Church.

And yet they had come here to swear their bond before God, and to declare it before everyone. Hitomi idly traced the sofa of the bridal waiting room where she had been sitting.

Seoyeon held her like that for a quiet moment, glanced at the clock on the wall, and slowly rose.

"Well then... shall we?"

She turned, met Hitomi's eyes, and offered her hand with a faint smile.

"Is it all right to walk in holding hands from the very start?"

"Ordinarily, I understand the father enters with the bride, and the groom receives her..."

In this case, there were only two brides. Seoyeon didn't finish the sentence, but what would have followed was easy enough to guess.

"Since we've already agreed to enter together, wouldn't it be fine to simply go in hand in hand?"

They had already settled the order of the ceremony.

At the time, Seoyeon had suggested she could simply take the groom's place. But Hitomi had insisted—firmly—that if she was wearing a wedding dress anyway, then she ought to be a bride as well. And so they had ended up like this.

"That's true, too. —I'm in your care today, Shion."

"Of course, Hitomi."

Hitomi laid her hand over the one Seoyeon offered and rose as well, looking down at herself for one last check that the dress hadn't creased.

It was nearly time for the ceremony to begin. The brides would not enter the moment it started, but it was better to be ready.

The two brides clasped each other's hands tight and started slowly toward the hall.

The pace was strangely unhurried. Part of it was the dresses, still unfamiliar, and part of it was the tension settled quietly in their chests. Or perhaps they simply wanted to savor, a little longer, a short walk that would be their last as lovers and as fiancées.

The doors of the hall stood wide, as if to welcome the guests, and from inside an amplified voice was leaking out over a microphone.

The voice was oddly familiar. A glance into the hall showed Senjoji Chiyo standing at the dais. Who ought to emcee the wedding had come up briefly in the second generation's group chat; in the end, it seemed, the choice had landed on her.

She was on good terms with both Han Seoyeon and Ninomae Hitomi, and as a broadcaster she had a ready tongue. A perfectly respectable selection, one might think.

"I met those same conditions, though."

She had only murmured it under her breath, a little regretful, but Bansei Marin—stationed at the entrance to receive the gift envelopes—was not about to let it pass.

"Now, now. Even so, Yuri-chan, you're entirely too tremendous a person, aren't you?"

"I hear the officiant is His Holiness the Pope. At that caliber, I wouldn't be the least bit too much as emcee, would I?"

"Well, isn't that why you ended up with the song? Ninomae-chan really does love the way you sing, Yuri-chan."

Tsunashi Tenka added that, as if to console her. She, too, was at the entrance, sorting gift money.

A wedding gift or a congratulatory song—both were roles usually given to the couple's friends and acquaintances—so choosing everyone from within the second generation was natural enough, if one cared to call it natural.

"Oh, and here's the gift."

"Out of your pocket. Honestly, I was half imagining you rolling up with the bundles still in the trunk."

"Even I wouldn't do something that nouveau riche."

"Hehe. I'm only teasing."

After that bit of playful back-and-forth, Bansei went on with a gentle smile.

"So shall I put it down as a joint gift with your maid?"

"Ah, I prepared mine separately. Here."

"Did you? Well then, thank you for coming to celeb—"

And then she received an envelope from Yuri's maid as well. ...And froze in that very same posture.

Blank-faced, she dropped her gaze to the envelope in her hands, then slowly lifted her eyes to the maid.

The guard and attendant who was always at Hyakurenno Yuri's side. Momomomo Chisa, the same as ever.

Except that the moment Bansei registered her, a wrongness followed that was enough to leave her faintly dizzy.

Look at her however you liked, there was not the slightest hint of drink about her.

It was nothing short of a pine caterpillar that refused to eat pine needles—no. It was the uncanny sight of a car rolling along with no fuel in the tank. A scene Bansei Marin's brain simply could not process was unfolding right in front of her.

"Uh, um, so... you haven't been drinking...?"

An utterly ordinary sentence, and yet turning it into language had taken considerable effort. Asked out of nowhere to describe an imaginary animal in concrete detail, of course one would stammer like this.

"A chance to drink Thomas Bonaventura's masterpiece, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and I would meet it with a muddled head and fail to savor the taste? There could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be no greater fool."

"Uh, so... is that so...?"

Faced with a sight her reason refused to accept, Bansei managed a deeply awkward smile. Only long after the two of them had gone into the hall was she released from her stun.

"That child... was a creature capable of sobriety..."

"Well... it's not as if I don't understand the reaction..."

Tenka gave a wry smile of her own. Momomomo Chisa not drinking was a sight you simply could not imagine ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unless you saw it with your own eyes.

"Still, I heard she came sober to the third-generation auditions last time, too."

"Hmm. Maybe she isn't as serious an addict as I thought."

If that counted as a mercy, then it was one. Nothing that followed was quite so shocking.

"Heere's the gift~"

"Sis? That's a different envelope."

"Oh my? Sorry, my mistake. This is the real one. I put Honoka-chan's share in too~"

"So you're the one on gift duty, Tenka."

"Yeah. Well, it just sort of ended up that way."

"Here. Take it."

"Good morning, everyone. Here is the gift."

"A wedding gift, I say!"

"Here. The gift."

"...Do I have to give one too?"

"Demon or not, you came because you were invited, so you've got to give one too, Ma-chan."

Hitomi's guests were all connected to Anathema, so every face was a known one. Chisa had been a truly exceptional case. Why would a face you always saw be any cause for surprise?

Seoyeon's guests, for their part, included many people they were meeting for the first time, and a high proportion of foreigners—but even so, they all seemed decent, gentle people.

"Giacomo Marchisio. Yes—if you simply write Giacomo, Seoyeon will know who it is."

"Oh, it's been so long, Bansei Marin-san..."

"You're... Alejandra?"

"Yes?! You remembered my name?! W-wow... ehehe."

"Yes. Writing Ohirume will do."

"Mika Eru! Tsunashi-chan and I go way back, riiight?"

"Ryuzaki Sanshi. ...Yes, those kanji. That's correct."

"Uh... I barely speak Japanese... um, do you speak English? So, the name is Moritz Hoffman. M-O-R-I-T-Z..."

"Adam Greenie. Ah, and there's one more envelope, in the name of Sarah Groothuizen."

...At any rate, so far as the two of them could tell, these were perfectly ordinary people.

They sat receiving guests for a good while, and at some point the people all but ran out. It was nearly time for the ceremony to start. Everyone who was coming had more or less arrived.

"...Hm?"

She was thinking just that when her eyes caught a shadow past the corner of the corridor, peeking out and ducking back, over and over.

"Tsunashi-chan. Any idea who that is?"

"Hm?"

It was far enough that only a silhouette barely showed. A werewolf's eyes might see a little more clearly, though, so Bansei called to Tenka beside her.

Tenka looked where she pointed and focused her eyes, trying to make it out.

"Huh?"

And tilted her head, puzzled.

"No, something's covering the face..."

"Covering the face, you say? You don't think it's someone suspicious..."

She was watching the silhouette with curiosity and unease all tangled together when the figure, as if it had made up its mind, suddenly stepped out from around the corner. And came scurrying toward them in a fluster of short little steps.

The closer it got, the greater the confusion.

Once the distance closed, Bansei could confirm for herself the covered face Tenka had mentioned.

It was a gas mask. No—not only a gas mask. The whole body was fully encased in something like a protective suit. Even the gloves had been diligently put on.

By any measure, an assailant. And given that it was running this way, screaming and calling people over would not have been the least bit strange...

"...Don't tell me that's Natsugahara-chan?"

"A-ahhh, h-hellooo...!"

But before she could startle and call for the others, a person flashed through Bansei's mind.

A senior of the first generation. An eccentric so severely averse to other people that, whenever she went out, she absolutely had to wrap her entire body in something.

Virtual name, Rokumondera Aki. Real name, Natsugahara Hina. And then the small voice leaking out through the gas mask confirmed the guess.

She didn't give her name with her own mouth. But the voice was familiar, and the envelope she had been gripping in both hands, and now held out, had Natsugahara written on it, plain as day.

"Thank you. A place like this must be very hard, and you still came to celebrate."

Bansei said it with a bright smile. There wasn't a grain of exaggeration in it.

She couldn't claim to understand a fear of people herself, but a life spent in the entertainment world had shown her plenty of people struggling with panic, with stage fright, with troubles of the mind. She knew very well how much courage it took to come to a place with this many people, and strangers among them. And still, she had come to bless a junior's wedding.

Either Hitomi was kind enough to be loved that much, or Hina was a very good-hearted person. At least one of the two had to be true. That she found herself guessing it was very likely both was proof enough of what a good place the company she now belonged to really was.

"Ninomae-chan will be so happy. Shion-chan, too. ...Ah, I'm sorry. I've kept you too long, haven't I? Go on in."

Only a few minutes remained before the ceremony. She couldn't keep her standing there, so she smiled and sent Natsugahara inside.

"We can call that the last of them, can't we?"

"Well, yeah. Senpai Natsugahara was probably the last one, at this hour."

They ought to wrap up quickly and head inside too. Bansei was just about to add that.

"Ah, I'm not too late, am I?! I'm so sorryDA...!"

In that instant a blonde Western woman came pelting in. She dashed up at considerable speed and plunked a gift envelope down on the desk.

"Lee Océane, huff— desuDA..."

She had clearly run hard. Bent at the waist and gasping, she barely managed to give her name, then slowly straightened again.

"...Anri-chan?"

"...Tenka?"

And her eyes met Tsunashi Tenka's, who had been staring at her in a daze.

A brief silence. Then Lee Océane's eyes grew wider and wider. Her pupils dilated by degrees—

"T-T-Tenka?! Wh-why are you here?!"

"Because Ninomae-chan asked me to— ah, no, more importantly, why are you here, Anri?! Weren't you in France...?"

It was a reunion that truly no one had expected.