"Wife?" asked Sumire. "I knew mila- I mean, I, was expecting to get married someday, but right now?"
"Of course," said John, pulling up his chair and sitting beside her at the table. The table was large. A projector had lowered from the ceiling, with no intent of being used. The vastness of the room was starting to overwhelm Sumire. "The Kotobuki Company and HMV have been looking to make a business deal for some time, but no agreement could be reached. That is, until my father heard that there was a girl about my age. We can merge control of the companies through our marriage."
Sumire turned her head to the left and gave me a confused look. I remembered what she'd told me on the train ride over. Mr. Kotobuki had been the one who sent his daughter to girls' schools her entire life. She was such a precious treasure to him that he feared the worst if some boy with no money tried to get his hands on his daughter. The only men Tsumugi had met in her life were either employees or family members.
This had backfired. Rather than being mystified by a man who would be considered her equal, Mugi had grown attracted to women. Sumire, running all of Mugi's errands for her, had much more experience with men, but a lot less self confidence. I gave her a warning that the coast was clear. Sumire took a deep breath.
"How soon is this wedding going to happen?" asked Sumire. "There are plenty of other projects I'm involved in. I'm sure you've heard of the changes taking place in Switzerland that I personally signed off on."
"Once you graduate from college, Tsumu-gi. At that point, you will be ready to take over your father's company, so it's the perfect time, is it not?" asked John. His thick accent was easing Sumire's tension, not that she could tell him that. "I was told there was going to be more than just you here. My butler is waiting outside in the car if you want to meet him. Do you have any household staff?"
Mugi's staff was closer than he thought. Sumire started drumming her fingers against the table, nervously laughing. She closed her eyes, hoping to avoid suspicion. "My father trusts me to handle these sorts of things on my own," she said, enunciating each word carefully, "My maid is out enjoying herself. Besides, Mr. Barraud, I barely know who you are." Sumire gave out a sigh.
I leaned over the side of the door frame, peeking into the room. Sumire was losing ground, fast. I had to help her. If I did, would this count as sabotage? John heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway. I hid behind the large wooden door, my back against the wall, before he could make eye contact with me. This wasn't the time to break in.
"Don't be silly, Tsumu-gi," said John, "I came all the way to Tokyo to meet with my bride to be. What do you say to the two of us going out for a romantic afternoon? Just you, and me and our servants. I wouldn't want to get married to you without knowing the real Tsumu-gi. Do you accept?"
"The 'real' Tsumugi?" asked Sumire, "She's done, I mean, I've done a lot of things that might surprise you."
"I like being surprised," said John.
That was good enough. I grabbed the handle of the door and pulled myself around, slamming it shut behind me as I made my entrance into the room. The loud slam of the door and the burst of wind rushing into the room swayed my skirt just a little bit. I adjusted my glasses and caught my breath.
"Surprise," I said.
"You said you didn't have anybody here," said John.
Sumire's eyes narrowed. Those sharp blue eyes pierced my heart. For the past several days, she'd been dealing with conflicts from Tsumugi, her father and her own ambitions. When I stepped in there, it should have added one more layer of problems, but that was what made it a relief. I was actually there. She could deal with me directly, and didn't care if John got in the way.
"Nao, you were supposed to be keeping watch," she said in the loudest hushed voice she could muster.
"So your name is Nao? Pleased to meet you," said John, standing up and moving his arm across his chest, "I am..."
"I know who you are," I said.
"So you have heard of the HMV Group?" said John.
I had. They reached across the world, producing and selling music that was some of the best in the business. The Kotobuki Company was powerful, but in this game of business, Barraud was the one holding all the cards.
"It's pleasure to meet you," I said, shaking hands.
"Likewise," said John, laughing heartily, "Oh, Tsumu-gi, I did not know you were on such friendly terms with your servants. You must be a most amazing girl!"
"I'm not her servant, I'm her friend," I said, momentarily breaking character, "Na-nao Okuda, I'm with the Kotobuki Company. If you want to get to Su... Mugi, you have to close the deal with me first."
"Negotiation is the best part of business," said John, "I can promise, Okuda, after today, we will be partners for life."
"Playboy," said Sumire.
"I am surrounded by so many beautiful women, it's only natural," said John. "Just look at how the both of you are smiling."
I didn't have the heart to tell him it was because his Japanese was laughable. The meeting ended after less than an hour. We were to meet John in the center of town for lunch, followed by a walk through the park. Sumire, myself and him walked out of the room together. He said he had something to attend to in the direction of the Budokan, and waved us goodbye. He strolled off into the horizon, standing above and out of the crowds all the while.
I removed my glasses, rubbing them with the edge of my shirt. Then I slid them into my pocket, and grabbed Sumire by the shoulders. I stared straight at her, my forehead shining in the afternoon sunlight. "Sumiire," I said, "What are you doing? Our entire day has been sidetracked because of you."
"My duty as a fan to Lady Tsumugi is important," said Sumire, "but my duty as her maid comes first. If I can't get in touch with her, then I must become her. I simply can't allow her to marry without informing me of it first."
"You were informed of it first," I said, the tension suddenly dropping from my voice.
"It's only one date. The concert hall's within the area, so it's not like we're losing much," said Sumire, "Besides, Nao, you enjoy trying out new things. If you're willing to play along, maybe I really could get you a job with the Kotobuki Company. I have connections..." she said.
"You also have the only key to our hotel room," I said, "You're going to get me to do this whether I like it or not. Maybe you have picked up some things from Mugi."
Sumire broke herself free from my shoulders and smiled at me. Her eyes were sparkling, and bubbles were floating around her head. "Really? That's perfect. She's the absolute ideal of a woman. Looks like I don't need to do that much work if I'm going to be her."
"There is one thing you need to do," I said, "Look up."
Sumire cast her gaze in the direction of the sky. I held out my palm and slapped her on the forehead. A small lump appeared in the middle of her hair. Her smile had not faded.
"I meant your eyebrows," I said.
"Oh, right, those," said Sumire.
Time was running out until our date. We returned to our apartment. Sumire's Mugi Fan Club clothes were still laid out across the table. She grabbed the jacket and rubbed the soft fabric against her face. I changed into a spare maid outfit Sumire had bought for reasons unknown, and called out to her. Sumire came to her senses and ran into the bathroom, a pile of clothes under her arm.
She stepped out wearing a frilly pink dress that drew attention towards her face. A hair scrunchie, adorned with a circular ornament. A treble clef had been embossed inside the diameter of the circle. Her posture was poised and elegant, showing grace without superiority, her facial expressions doing the speaking for her.
She was still missing the eyebrows.
"I crafted these out of fabric and fake hair," said Sumire, revealing something stuck to her thumbs. Two fake eyebrows, the same shape, size and bushiness as Mugi's, were stuck to the back of her thumbs with the same kind of adhesive used on a bandage.
"How did you... So quickly..." I said.
"I may not be blue blood, but I am not untalented," said Sumire.
She stood in front of the mirror. The adhesive rubbed against her skin. She winced a little bit as the false eyebrow was applied over her real one. Once both of them were on, Sumire bowed.
"Nice to meet you. So, how do I look?" she said.
"Close enough," I answered, "Sumire, if anything happens with this guy, I will be there to help you. I'm not sure I've ever said it, but after all these years, you feel like a sister to me."
Sumire hugged me back. "Thanks, Nao. Those feelings are returned."
Alice in Labyrinth was John's restaurant of choice. It was dimly lit, even in the middle of the afternoon, and had a dim atmosphere reflecting the Wonderland we had been told of when we were young. Sumire's maid outfit looked completely out of place here. The aesthetics of the Kotobuki household's maids clashed with the mostly light blue outfits worn by the waitresses here. Perhaps the presence of what they thought was a Kotobuki made them pay me no mind.
We were welcomed into the Mad Tea Party room, where giant teacups were dotted around the landscape, with the feeling that a dormouse could jump out of them at any moment.
John didn't see us come in. He had arrived early, taking up a call on his cell phone in the meanwhile. Sumire sat down and pursued the menu, trying to ignore the giant teacups. That was the thing that had started her down this path in the first place. If Mugi hadn't left her tea set back in the club room, if Sumire had not gone to get them, her high school life, and my own, would be very different.
"Valiant, have you found that new sound we're looking for?" he said, talking into his cell phone in his native English. I could understand most of what he was saying. "I know this is about the marriage thing, but as long as we're here, there might be someone with talent. Japan's music could be very profitable for us.
"Yes, I'm aware there's a concert going on today. Both of the bands have already been signed. Besides, both of them are girl groups, we don't know what chance they'll have overseas. The world may not be ready for a group called Afterschool Tea Time yet," he said.
Sumire held her menu up to her face, hiding her glare.
"Call me back," said John, hanging up. In the audience of his fiancee, he put on the mask of a foreigner once more, speaking with the wrong syllable on every word. "Tsumu-gi, have you decided on your drinks yet?"
I suppressed my laughter from behind one of the pillars. The couple sitting at the table beside these two mistook me for one of the waitresses, and asked for a refill on their drinks. Without thinking, I went back to the kitchen. I mapped out my path in my head, making sure I passed by Sumire's table as many times as possible.
"Just a minute," said Sumire nervously. "You're so young and you're already here on business?"
"I am like you, Tsumu-gi," he said, "My father is not certain if I am responsible enough, and I am basically closing deals he's already made. He calls it training. Even if I am joining the family business, I have to start at the lowest rung."
"The lowest rung..." said Sumire, "Even that is far above what the average person would consider 'low'. Did you know that I've worked in the fast food industry?" Sumire was treading lightly. She was like Barraud in that regard, not knowing anything beyond "maid", and maid to a high class family at that. Mugi had gone higher than her and lower than her. If this conversation kept up, she might find herself becoming attracted to this man.
"You mean like promotions?" asked John, "Max Burger wanted to use one of our bands to sell their food, and also let us give away free concert tickets. It was a tough deal. I suppose tie ins like this are much more common in Japan?"
"No, that's... that's not it," said Sumire, her face sweating with contradictions. "I've worked in the fast food industry. As a service worker. You can't understand the common people if you don't get closer to them. It was intense, and the fryer was hot, but it left me feeling satisfied. That was money that I earned."
"I'm surprised," said John, "If I was in your position, I'd use my father's name to get discounts on instruments, let people onto my private property so they can practice in peace, take over a family studio for free. If you have wealth, what's the problem with using it?"
Sumire fell silent again. She stirred her spoon in her tea, trying to come up with a suitable response. After a minute of awkward silence, she softly spoke to John. "Wealth cannot buy musical talent. Even if my friends hadn't been able to do things like that, we'd have still found a way."
I arrived back at the table with their drinks. Sumire clamped her mouth down on the straw and took in a large gulp of tea, surprising John. I took their orders, and passed the note off to someone else. I hid behind one of the pillars, getting some strange looks from people sitting at the table behind me.
"There is a lot I don't know about you, Tsumu-gi," said John, "The Kotobuki family primarily works in the selling of musical instruments?"
"Yes," said Sumire.
"Do you play any instruments? I have heard that Japanese beauties are trained in some form of music from the time they are very young. I would love for you to play a song for me," said John, drawing out the white rose from his pocket and placing it on the center of the table.
"I play the drums," said Sumire, "They're very relaxing. I thought they'd be uncultured, but playing them is really fun." That wasn't it at all. I ran up to the table and slammed a basket of bread and butter in the middle of the table. I turned towards Sumire and whispered into her ear.
"You play the drums. Mugi plays the keyboard. Let's try that again," I said, looking up. "Enjoy your meal."
"Did I say drums?" said Sumire, holding her hand to her mouth, imitating a rich girl's laughter, "I meant keyboard. Yes, keyboard. Mila- I am an expert at it. I've won a few competitions doing that."
"That makes more sense," said John, "I didn't know you played the drums as well. You're such a well rounded young lady."
"Keyboard with drums on the side. You can do a lot of things when you have the time," said Sumire, wiping the sweat off her brow. She had barely made it out of that one intact.
One of the wait staff approached me, and wondered why I wasn't back in the kitchen. I was halfway back when I slid underneath the table and started crawling along, picking up dropped utensils along the way. A maid outfit isn't the easiest thing to sneak around in. I wouldn't want to be anywhere near the kitchen. I simply don't know my own strength.
Though the frills of my dress were sticking out, I was now two tables away from Sumire and John, and had a clear line to their conversation. It helped that the table I was hiding under was empty.
"Your eyebrows," said John, gazing directly into and then directly above Sumire's eyes.
Sumire panicked. The lights of the restaurant were bright, and the air conditoning was running on cold. With all the sweating Sumire had been doing, she was certain her false eyebrows were starting to fall off. She quickly brushed her hands across her brow, trying to make it look like she was styling herself.
"What about my eyebrows?" asked Sumire.
"They're beautiful," said John, "There's so much hair up there, I would love to run my fingers through it. I wonder if the rest of your hair is as bushy and gold as those two little caterpillars you have running across your head." He said with a sly wink.
"Yu-yui always told me they're more like pickled radishes," said Sumire, her face turning bright red.
"That reminds me, where is our food?" said John, "That waitress came by here a long time ago, you'd think she'd have it by now."
I felt a kick on the back of my leg. The waitress who I had passed off the order to had returned with the two plates of food for their table. She gave me a stern look, and left the plates on the table I had been hiding under. It was a short walk, I could make it. I took slow and careful steps, sliding John's plate in front of him. Sumire's meal almost fell out of my hands, but she grabbed onto the plate just in time, and gave me a quick nod.
"Thank you," said Sumire.
"Do not mind me, I'm new here," I said.
The food at this place was casual French and Italian. As such, it had exquisite presentation and small amount of actual food. John started eating right away. Sumire wondered if she had ordered the wrong thing. She may look like a foreigner, but she'd spent her entire life in Japan.
Sumire stabbed her fork into her plate, twirling around the pasta. The background noise of the other diners rose in volume. John had already eaten a good portion of his meal. He wiped the edges of his mouth with his napkin. He stretched his hand across the table and dabbed it on Sumire's mouth, taking in some of the tea she had hastily gulped down earlier.
Sumire swallowed her pasta. The restaurant looked like it had spent more money on aesthetics than chefs, but the taste was decent. Slightly above average, and a little heavy on the oil and sauce, but it wouldn't leave her stomach feeling bad. Memories of cooking exotic dishes for Mugi were coming back to her.
"Are you liking it?" asked John.
"The food's a lot like the usual. It's a familiar atmosphere," said Sumire, "Even with the design."
"Elegant Gothic Lolita," said John, "It's a European style that emphasizes a hidden femininity beneath lace and frills. You'd know a lot about that. When I look into your bright eyes, I see a perfect marriage of Western and Eastern sensibilities. That will not be the only thing that is married, of course."
Sumire twirled a large amount of pasta around her fork. She could see the oil dripping from the noodles, John's face briefly warped through the golden coating. Sumire looked like she was starting to crack under pressure. "Aaaah..." she said. I wasn't sure what word she was trying to get out.
John opened his mouth and placed his elbows on the table. He bent forward, the straw of his drink brushing against his chin. "You wish to feed me, Tsumu-gi?" he said, "This feels like an actual date now. Let's eat."
Sumire thrust the pasta-covered fork into his mouth and stood up, shaking the table. She turned to John and said, "I... I need to go use the bathroom! Excuse me!"
She ran past the other customers, grabbing me by my hand. We turned the corner and entered into the ladies' toilet. Sumire locked herself in a stall. I heard a flushing sound. She joined me by the sinks, panting. Her hair had gone wild from running.
"I don't know if I can keep this up," Sumire said.
"There's been a few slips, but you're not doing bad," I said, "You play Mugi a lot better than I could."
"This is turning out worse than I thought," said Sumire.
"Is it the giant teacups?" I asked.
"It's Barraud!" said Sumire, splashing cold water on her face. She shook her head like a dog, getting some of the water on my shoulder. "I was expecting to hate him. The problem is that he's so nice. How can I dislike someone who's only thinking of me? Even worse, I think he's a better fit for me than he is for Lady Tsumugi."
"He kinda thinks you are Mugi," I said, handing her a towel.
"Thank you," said Sumire, "I might be falling for him." She wiped her face, and looked in the mirror with a newfound purpose. "That's not what I'm here for. My dedication is to Lady Tsumugi above all else, only her. I've let him reach my heart. Maybe it's time I opened up his."
"Fight, Sumiire," I said, "I didn't know there was this side to you."
"I need to buy some time. Nao, order a parfait for myself and Barraud. I'll pay you a good tip," said Sumire.
Sumire slammed the bathroom door and ran out, returning to her table. I stood there, the water-splattered mirror reflecting my image. "I don't even work here!" I shouted.
I walked back from the kitchen, carrying the tray of freshly chilled desserts. Sumire had finished all of her meal. Neither of the two was saying anything. I placed the tray down on a nearby table.
"Here you go, two nonstop strawberry parfaits," I said. "One for the lady." I placed it in front of Sumire. "And one for you... whoa!" John stretched out his hand towards my arm, striking me in the elbow. My grip on the strawberry parfait, covered in condensation, loosened, and the glass fell to the floor, shattering and spilling its creamy contents.
"Don't worry," said John, "I've heard in Japan sharing a parfait is something that lovers do. One will be fine for Tsumu-gi and I." He reached into his wallet and produced a 5,000 yen bill. "My mistake."
I accepted the money and started cleaning up the mess. I could see Sumire's hand shaking, clutching the napkin on her lap. Her maid instincts were kicking in. I was holding in my laughter once more. Whether it was out of nervousness or because of John's accent, I wasn't sure.
"Why did you choose here?" asked Sumire, taking a bite of the parfait.
"I like the atmosphere of this place," said John, "This is the kind of food we'll be eating all the time."
"Pardon?" asked Sumire, swallowing her parfait.
"Didn't your father tell you? Once you get married, you'll be on the international stage. You and I will live in London, mingling with the stars and the highest ranked companies. It's still an island, so it'll be just like home. It's a bit rainy, but that will give us more time to spend with each other."
Sumire's voice lost all its passion from moments ago. "Milady has friends here. Close ones. Moving half a world away..."
"Tsumu-gi," John said, "What do you think of having children?"