The Passengers on the Hankyu Line

Sakasegawa Station

My, how adorable!

Tokié’s eyes crinkled at the sight of the couple that were standing in the middle of the staircase.

The young man was speaking earnestly to the long-haired young woman who was carrying a tote bag featuring the Disney character beloved by Tokié’s granddaughter, who was with her today.

‘If you’d like to have a drink, how about today? Are you free now?’

He must have run up this long staircase because he sounded breathless.

‘But, uh, not if you have a boyfriend …’

‘I don’t,’ the young woman replied cheerfully, smiling at him. ‘In fact, I’m looking for one. So your invitation is quite welcome.’

‘OK, great!’

‘I’d love to.’

From the corner of her eye, Tokié witnessed this heartwarming scene of budding romance just as her granddaughter called out, ‘Granny, the train is coming!’ before they both stepped quickly down the rest of the stairs. She wasn’t so old yet, she could still hustle without worrying about her back or her knees.

She and her granddaughter dashed onto the train and then stopped to catch their breath.

They had even made it with time to spare – the announcement cautioning against last-second boarding had yet to blare from the loudspeaker.

‘Nice hustle, Granny!’

Her granddaughter had got to be a sassy little thing, though, as a grandmother, it would have been immature of Tokié to inform her that, had she been alone, there was no doubt she would still have made it – so she refrained.

Her son and his wife wanted to see a movie that day so Tokié had offered to take care of her granddaughter. The plan had been a trip to the dog park that had opened on what used to be the site of an amusement park, Takarazuka Family Land. It was the perfect destination for her dog-loving granddaughter. Even though Tokié didn’t have a dog, they could still take the dogs at the park for a walk. Tokié had also promised that, on their way home, they could get off at Sakasegawa where she would buy the girl a snack and a present at the biggest 100-yen shop around, which was her granddaughter’s favourite (likely because her pestering was more successful there than at a regular store).

‘Weren’t they cute today?’

Her granddaughter was talking about the Welsh Corgis. Tokié hadn’t let on how much she herself loved dogs and that she was actually more knowledgeable about breeds than her granddaughter.

There were no empty seats but it looked like there might be some in the next car so the two of them moved on, hand in hand.

‘Granny, did you bring découpage again for today?’

‘Yes, I did, a new project.’

‘My mom says I don’t need any more.’

Her daughter-in-law had yet to realize that children didn’t keep things to themselves. Although it would have been even worse if she had deliberately been using her daughter to convey the not-so-subtle message.

‘I’ll still leave them with you even if you don’t need them.’

Tokié’s son and his wife were not shy about using her as a babysitter, although, over these years since her husband passed away, they seemed to have forgotten to even mention the prospect of Tokié living with them. For her part, Tokié hadn’t the slightest interest in making her way into a home where she felt unwelcome, so she didn’t mention it either.

Curiously, their relationship was not strained. She stayed over with them in their condo sometimes, and they all came over to stay at Tokié’s home at other times.

Tokié’s late husband left her the house, on which the mortgage had been fully paid off, along with a tidy sum of money, and when she died presumably – as their only child – Tokié’s son and his wife would inherit these from her.

It’s not that she didn’t worry about whether she would need care, but she had taken out private insurance for this possibility and was conscientious about her diet and exercise. As Tokié got older, it was perfectly natural for her to hope for a sudden death, one that didn’t create a burden for anyone.

She figured that, so long as she was still living on her own, she was entitled to one last selfish wish. Something she’d been wanting since her husband passed away.

While there was still time, she wanted to have a dog.

Being obliged to walk the dog would be good for her health.

Even if she became unable to care for it, her grand-daughter loved dogs and, with the inheritance, her son and his wife could manage to look after one little dog.

Tokié was pondering all this as they moved to the next car where, standing by the door, they saw a woman in a snow-white dress, looking just like a runaway bride. She was quite a beauty, though the look on her face gave the impression that she had just stabbed someone.

Her granddaughter may love dogs, but she was also of the age where she adored princesses and brides and frilly lace dresses, so she pointed at the woman and exclaimed, ‘A bride!’

Just then, tears flowed down the woman’s cheeks.

A grownup could intuit that there must be extenuating circumstances. By the woman’s feet, there was a wedding favour bag from the Takarazuka Hotel, a top-notch local venue. Anyone with common sense and consideration knew that you didn’t wear an ostentatious white dress when invited to a wedding.

Furthermore, a dress as beautiful as that must have cost at least a hundred thousand yen. Judging from those tears in response to Tokié’s granddaughter, the woman appeared perfectly intelligent – not the type to commit an unintentional gaffe.

Her granddaughter seemed utterly enthralled, and immediately took the spare seat next to where the woman was standing. There was not quite enough space beside her granddaughter, which made it preferable for Tokié to stand in front of her, hanging onto the strap.

Her granddaughter was staring inquisitively at the tearful woman. For better or worse, the girl was of an age where she was curious about everything, so it was only a matter of time before she started asking why the bride was crying.

Tokié figured there was a better chance of avoiding embarrassment for the woman by pre-emptively engaging her in conversation. Her granddaughter had enough discipline to know that she wasn’t supposed to butt into grownups’ conversations.

‘Was it a successful incursion?’

It seemed to take a moment for the woman to register Tokié’s question.

‘Are you speaking to me?’

‘Yes, I asked you a question.’

Tokié might like to think that her blunt way of speaking was straightforward and natural, but the woman seemed to have taken it as criticism.

‘You must think I’m ridiculous – a woman wearing a white dress like this and carrying a wedding favour.’

‘Don’t take it the wrong way – I’m not criticizing you at all. If anything, you might very well think I’m the one who’s ridiculous. A nosy old lady asking a stranger whether her revenge was successful.’

The woman looked like she’d been caught off guard, but then she chuckled.

‘I’m not sure whether I was successful or not. It’s possible I may have only brought them closer together, in their hatred towards me. But I hope that when they think of their wedding, the two of them remember me. I won’t let it be the happiest day of their lives. I want to make their wedding a day they’d rather forget.’

The woman had been speaking stiltedly but then her tone seemed to relax.

‘I’m a wronged woman. While I was in the midst of planning my wedding, that hussy took advantage of his jitters to lure him away. It was calculated – once she was pregnant, she came to him, weeping and helpless.’

‘There have always been and always will be devious women like that. What a tale of woe.’

‘That’s a strange response,’ said the woman. ‘Usually, I’d expect to hear that, no matter how much of a grudge I have, putting a curse on my ex is simply not done in polite society. Especially from someone your age.’

Tokié replied, ‘You’d have to be a saint to have something of that magnitude done to you and not put a curse on him. So long as you have the wherewithal and you’re certain you won’t regret it, no doubt you’ll feel much better for striking back.’

Her gaze drifted to the landscape outside the window. The houses lining the railway were all old and shabby.

‘One must be prepared to take on and atone for the curse, in and of itself. You did it because you feel deeply wounded and so, a stranger’s rebuke, no matter how accurate, won’t shake your resolve. But I’m nothing more than a nosy bystander.’

‘… I’m prettier than the bride.’

‘No doubt you are.’

Were that not the case, you never would have attempted such an incursion.

‘When they came around to my table, the bride turned to the groom with a fiendish look. She saw that he was looking at me. Seeing me, more beautiful than in all the five years we were together. Ten years from now, when she’s a tatty old housewife, worn out from housework and raising kids, I hope he remembers how I looked today. Even when I’m worn out, I’m sure I’ll age better – and I hope he remembers the woman he could have had, the one he let get away. I hope he remembers how the woman he married, on the day that she looked her best, compares to me. And that he is disillusioned by the life he chose so rashly.’

She spat out this noxious venom that some might have interpreted as boastful. But the woman who looked as though she had just stabbed someone was herself wounded, unavoidably spattered with the blood of her victims.

‘I don’t care whether people think I’m arrogant or nasty. I was willing to do whatever it took to put a hex on those two. I wanted to make sure that what ought to have been the finest day of their lives would be jinxed.’

‘You’ve got mettle.’ Tokié nodded and then shifted the conversation. ‘So, you work at the same company as the bride and groom?’

‘Yes.’

‘This is unsolicited advice from a nosy bystander, so take it as you like.’

The woman listened solemnly.

‘For now you can curse them to your heart’s content. Your mere presence at the office will be humiliating and will surely affect his prospects.’

Tokié deliberately didn’t mention anything about the bride. Her own life experience told her that there was little chance such a crafty woman would return to work after giving birth – and that in light of the circumstances, she had little motivation to do so. Even having accomplished her scheme to steal another woman’s man, it was doubtful she had the grit or the guts to withstand the scornful looks from her colleagues.

‘But once you’re satisfied with the curse, you ought to quit.’

Tokié offered no further explanation and the woman kept quiet. She seemed to have a good head on her shoulders and to be taking in Tokié’s message.

With the groom now saddled with such a clingy partner, relentlessly pursuing the destruction of their life together would backfire, earning her their enduring resentment. The curse would then burden her for the rest of her life.

Tokié had no idea about the depth or breadth of the woman’s love for the man. But she was still young and beautiful – this blow, though painful, was not fatal. She would surely recover, of this Tokié was certain.

‘I understand,’ the woman responded at long last and with seemingly immense sincerity.

‘NEXT STOP, OBAYASHI. OBAYASHI.’

The train announcement came on, and Tokié offered one more bit of unsolicited advice.

‘If I may suggest it, consider getting off at Obayashi. You look pale, and Obayashi is a lovely station for a respite.’

The woman tilted her head doubtfully but, taking in the recommendation of a woman with whom she’d just had such a candid exchange in the span of a single stop on the train, she nodded, and said, ‘I think I will do just that.’

The train slowed as it pulled into the station.

The doors opened, and a young couple boarded – looking overtly at her stark white dress, so conspicuous on a regular, local train.

Tokié’s granddaughter called after the woman in white who had just got off.

‘Miss, you forgot something.’

The woman’s shoulders shuddered. Perhaps she had meant to leave it behind. She turned back to retrieve the wedding favour bag.

She smiled stiffly, took the bag from the girl, and with a wave, got off the train again.

‘Such a pretty bride, wasn’t she!’

Tokié’s granddaughter gazed wistfully at the figure in white as the train began to move.

‘That was not a bride.’

Perhaps the reason for Tokié’s dry tone as she corrected her granddaughter had to do with a certain disdain for the real bride of the day.

‘A bride does not ride the train by herself. There was no groom, now, was there?’

‘Oh, you’re right!’

White is not only for brides. In historical dramas, a woman who performs the ox-hour shrine visit wears white. She too is there to lay a curse.

White can encompass celebration as well as malediction and malice. But perhaps it was not the time to share such information with her granddaughter.

‘Did you see her? That was crazy, huh?’

‘She was a looker, though.’

‘C’mon, d’ya really think so?’

The couple who had boarded the train when the woman had got off were standing by the opposite door and, sure enough, had started chatting about her, their comments genial but indiscreet.

‘She’s wearing what looks like a wedding dress, but she’s carrying a wedding favour.’

‘What’s so strange about that?’

‘Ugh, I swear, guys have NO clue how to behave at special occasions. It’s majorly tacky for an invited guest to wear white to a wedding. Especially a dress as fancy as that. Something’s gotta be up with that.’

This assessment by the girl in the couple was spot on, but Tokié preferred for her granddaughter not to hear their conversation. And despite how young she still was, Ami had noticed that the couple were discussing the woman who had just left the train. She sat quite still, pretending to be well behaved, while listening attentively to what they were saying. Even if she didn’t fully understand, soon enough she’d be able to guess that the girl in the couple was not saying nice things.

‘Ami.’

As soon as Tokié called her name, her granddaughter looked up. Apparently, even at her age, she knew enough to feel guilty for eavesdropping.

‘So, I’m thinking about getting a dog – what do you think?’

‘Wow, really?!’

The girl’s face instantly brightened. Tokié could tell from the sparkle in her eyes that both the woman in the white dress and the couple’s conversation about her were already forgotten.

It’s for the best. She’s too young to worry about stories like that.

‘I think you should get a Golden Retriever, Granny!’

‘Oh, Ami, I don’t have the energy to keep up with such a big dog. Better for me to get a smaller dog.’

‘You mean like the ones we saw today … a Corgi?’

‘That’s right, about that size. But I think a Shiba Inu might be nice.’

‘Ah, Shiba puppies are so cute!’

Her granddaughter’s love for dogs was so complete, she’d support whatever breed Tokié might suggest.

‘What about an even smaller one, like a Chihuahua?’

‘Well, personally I’d prefer to get a slightly bigger dog.’

After all, she did have the whole house to herself. Whereas a big dog might be too much for her, she’d prefer one with a bit more presence than a Chihuahua.

‘I hope you get one soon, Granny! Then I can help you out with dog walks!’

Tokié began a semi-serious enumeration of potential dog breeds, including explanations of whichever breeds were unfamiliar to her granddaughter, and these hypothetical dogs seemed to overwrite any memory of the weary-looking quasi-bride.

‘But Granny, if you love dogs, how come you’ve never had one all this time?’

The question caught Tokié off guard – she paused to ponder why herself. As a child she’d had a number of dogs, and once she was married they’d had their own house, so there hadn’t been any restrictions that would have prevented it—

‘Oh! Ah yes, that’s right …’

As she recalled the reason – completely forgotten up to this point – Tokié chuckled.

‘Gramps didn’t like dogs.’

‘What?’

Back in their day, love marriages were still rare. Tokié’s had been an arranged marriage – after being introduced by a matchmaker, she and her suitor’s feelings for each other had slowly grown fonder.

One day he gently asked, ‘Next Sunday, would it be all right for me to come to your house and introduce myself to your parents?’ Tokié had no reason to refuse. He was hard-working and good-natured, the kind of person with whom she could imagine spending the rest of her life.

And so it was that on the following Sunday, the man who would be her husband put on his best suit and, with a bouquet of flowers for Tokié in one hand and a bottle of fine saké for her parents in the other, he arrived at her home.

Her parents and brothers gave him a grand welcome, everyone standing at the front door and making a bit of a fuss over him. But there was someone who did not appreciate all this commotion.

The beaming smile on Tokié’s future husband’s face as he greeted them suddenly changed dramatically.

‘Yikes—!’

Oh, no – wondering what had happened, they turned to see that the family dog, a Kai Ken whose kennel was right by the entryway, had bitten him on the backside and remained firmly attached.

Though a banquet had been set up in the drawing room, Tokié’s future husband lowered his trousers in their sitting room – his best suit ruined (of course, fearing for their reputation, Tokié’s father would later pay him compensation) – where the doctor, on a house call, daubed the suitor’s backside with iodine tincture and remonstrated with the family about summoning him for a minor injury they could have treated themselves. Perhaps it was true that the family could have treated the injury themselves, but just who among them would have been the appropriate person to minister to the exposed backside of the young man chosen for their daughter, who had come there to ask for her hand in marriage? Later in their life together, Tokié would apply ointment to his bites and even haemorrhoids, but at that time, the couple had barely exchanged a kiss.

The suitor somehow managed to get through his proposal but since it was difficult for him to sit down, he beat a hasty retreat, hardly eating any of the feast. Tokié’s mother insisted on packing some of the food for him to take home but all in all it was a miserable experience.

Though before this, he may have been fine with dogs, he seemed traumatized thereafter and developed a fear of them (and certainly of the Kai Ken breed, a hunting dog with powerful jaws). If they happened to encounter a dog, no matter how small, he would squawk and hide behind Tokié.

And that was why, even after they had their own house, the prospect of having a dog never even occurred to either of them.

Over the last few years since her husband died, Tokié had been longing to have a dog – it was now or never.

The awful memory of being bitten on the backside before his marriage proposal had scarred her husband to the point that he would cry out if they even crossed paths with a Chihuahua, the sight of which would lead their grown son to tease his father, which would then cause her husband to sulk. Tokié would take note of where there were likely to be dogs and nonchalantly lead them on a detour so as to avoid them. She would take these memories of their life together to her own grave.

Forgive me, my dear.

If she got a dog, would that make it difficult for her husband’s spirit to return home for the Bon festival and his memorial services, she wondered? You’ll be fine, she thought. Now that he’s a ghost, he’d have no need to avoid dogs, right? She’d put the dog in its cage for the Bon festival. If you like, you can sit on top of my head.

She’d just make sure not to get a Kai Ken.