The Passengers on the Hankyu Line

Mondo Yakujin Station

‘Unbelievable. You old ladies are the worst.’

These words were clearly aimed directly at her – well, at the group of women that she was part of – and the passenger who muttered them was the young woman beside her, she herself not a run-of-the-mill good girl but a rather fashionably dressed college type.

The kind of girl whose suitability she might question as a mother, if her son were to bring her home to meet the family.

When a mother imagines the ideal girlfriend for her son – especially one he is considering marrying – she should be neither strikingly beautiful or flamboyant, nor too homely as to be a black mark against her son’s reputation. The ideal girlfriend is a nice young miss, the type who would appear neat and unobtrusively pretty, perhaps wearing a conservative blouse and pleated skirt. Of course, not the type who’s overly bold or assertive.

At least, that’s what her group of ladies thought. They all considered themselves refined housewives who enjoyed getting dressed up for a fancy outing together. That meant a satin or chiffon dress, accessorized with eye-catching jewellery and a designer handbag. All the more of a status symbol for having been acquired at a department store in Umeda.

Even buying it in the sale, after jostling among other shoppers and snatching it away from another woman’s hands – a department store purchase still earned top honours.

Then again, the housewives who actually were refined – the real deal, not wannabes like the ones in this group – could probably afford to visit the department store anytime, regardless of the sale season, to shop at their leisure and pay full price.

Nevertheless … Yasué Itoh stole a glance at the young college student sitting beside her.

Those who really were refined wouldn’t dare to complain if their son brought home a showy girl like her who would say something as sassy as what she had just muttered.

Yasué had seen from afar the antics of the queenpin leader of her group. How she had tossed her handbag onto the seat just as that other woman was about to sit down. And Yasué had heard the crass burst of laughter.

How embarrassing.

She had been loath to join the group, wondering what the people around them would think of her.

But Yasué was definitely too timid to confront the woman who had thrown the bag. The way the queenpin saw it, she had done it as a kindness towards Yasué, giving her a leg up when she was lagging behind. Yasué was well aware of what might happen to her, were she to defy that kindness, having witnessed others who had left or been ousted from their group.

There was nothing else to do but hand the carelessly tossed bag back to her. As Yasué muttered an apology, she felt an unpleasant prickling sensation in her stomach. She’d been experiencing more frequent stomach upsets recently. She didn’t really have any interest in going all the way to Takarazuka today for an expensive lunch at a Chinese restaurant. Someone had got hold of their menu and, studying it, had remarked, ‘If we’re going to go, we just have to try the fancy prix fixe,’ and so it was decided they would order the most expensive option that was five thousand yen per person.

It being a Saturday, her husband and son were home for the day and before she left Yasué had prepared fried rice for their lunch.

I’d much rather go out with my family for such an elaborate meal, she thought. Five thousand yen apiece! Now that her daughter had married and left home, that was more than the daily food budget for her three-person household.

Her association with this group had started back when they were together in the PTA for their children’s junior high school. Yasué’s husband and son, familiar with the group’s challenging dynamics, hadn’t said a word – they had always been sympathetic to her ambivalence about attending these outings.

When Yasué had handed the bag back and apologized, the queenpin had said, ‘No big deal,’ with an audible laugh. Yasué had smiled in an attempt to be agreeable. She had learned that the secret to getting along in life was not to go against the alpha.

That’s when the comment, like a stab in the gut, had been let loose from the seat beside her.

Unbelievable. You old ladies are the worst.

But what could Yasué say that would make the young woman understand that she dared not refuse the seat saved for her by the queenpin?

It’s not as if I’m happy to be a member of this group, Yasué thought. I find them embarrassing myself.

Would you believe me if I said I’m ashamed to admit that you, young lady, tut-tutting, behave better than they do?

Thanks, but no thanks – next time, don’t bother saving me a seat, I’d rather stand.

The fact that Yasué lacked the nerve to say any of these things out loud meant being lumped in with these ladies and being one of ‘the worst’.

She envied those women who had long ago been put off by the group and whose names no one ever mentioned any more. Having missed her chance to escape herself, she wondered just how long her relationship with them would go on for.

‘NEXT STOP, MONDO YAKUJIN. MONDO YAKUJIN.’

Yasué became hyper-aware of the absurdity of her husband and son eating fried rice that she had thrown together with whatever was on hand while she herself was en route to a fancy Chinese meal at a restaurant in Takarazuka.

Then she doubled over.

‘Oh! … Are you all right, ma’am?’

The startled voice came from the female college student beside her. She immediately rubbed Yasué’s back.

‘Uh-oh, it’s Itoh-san! What’s the matter!?’

The group sitting in a row across the aisle appeared not to have noticed until the college student had called out. ‘Is she all right?!’

The women’s voices rose in a chorus but none of them got up from their seat.

‘I’m sorry, my stomach’s a little …’

‘Oh, dear.’

‘Not when we’re on our way to lunch.’

‘Are you all right? Do you really think you can go?’

Yasué took hold of the college student’s sleeve, grasping it tightly. Don’t say a word.

The student responded in a whisper, The last thing someone in a cold sweat needs is a lunch outing!

Although it pained Yasué to raise her head, she strained to show the group a smiling face.

‘I’m sorry but I’m afraid it’s too much for me so I’ll get off here and go back home. I hope you all have a splendid time and that my absence won’t put a dampener on your fun.’

‘Are you sure? Well then …’

‘Feel better!’

The train slid into the platform. When the doors opened, the student stood up to support Yasué.

‘Please don’t bother. I’ll be fine.’

‘This is my stop anyway so I might as well.’

Admittedly, Yasué would have had trouble walking on her own.

‘Oh my, thank you, young lady, sorry for the trouble!’

The student made a show of tending to Yasué while completely ignoring the women who called out after them.

Just let me sit on this bench for the moment, I’ll curl up until I can scale this wall of pain.

‘Auntie, let me know when you’re able to walk. I think there’s a gynaecologist’s clinic just past the crossing, I’m pretty sure they do internal medicine too.’

Her uncertainty made it clear to Yasué that this wasn’t actually her usual stop.

‘I’m sorry to have interrupted your trip and made you get off the train.’

‘Not at all.’

The student sounded a bit brusque. Yasué couldn’t tell whether the irritation evident in her earlier comments – unbelievable, the worst – had dissipated.

‘But I don’t have my health insurance card with me today …’

‘If you bring it to them later, you can get reimbursed.’

‘That would be a waste of a train fare to have to come back here again … and I always have stomach medicine with me.’

‘Well, you might have said so sooner.’ The female college student set off in a huff towards the ticket gate.

Yasué watched her for a moment and then opened her bag to retrieve the medicine. The bag she had bought with money she’d saved from her part-time job, though she had felt guilty about how much that sum could have helped their household budget – all for just one designer item.

The other wives in the group had pressed her that she should have bought more than one, or nagged her husband for another during his bonus season, but Yasué had demurred, saying that this one suited her just fine.

She took out a packet of medicine that she kept in her wallet. Her wallet was no particular brand – the other ladies had also remarked that she ought to get one that matched her bag, but Yasué had made up the excuse that this one had been a gift from her mother-in-law so it would be a shame not to use it. The truth was that she had bought it at a discount for five thousand yen from the giant supermarket near her part-time job. The same price as the fancy Chinese set-menu lunch that she’d been on her way to today.

As she was attempting to stand up to go and buy some water, the student came back and was now handing her a bottle of mineral water. Apparently she hadn’t left, she had just gone to fetch water from a kiosk.

‘Oh dear, I’m sorry. How much do I owe you?’

‘Don’t worry about it, it’s just a bottle of water.’

Yasué bowed her head. She opened the bottle and poured the bitter medicine into it. For some reason, the student made no move to go anywhere.

‘Um …’ Yasué was tentative as she asked, ‘Why are you …?’

‘I feel guilty!’ the student replied hotly. ‘I made that nasty remark so that you could hear it and … if that’s what caused your stomach pain, then I need to stay with you until you feel better.’

Oh, what a nice girl. A very good girl. Even finer than the ‘ideal bride’ for their sons that the ladies in the group talked about. This was the kind of girl she hoped her son would date. Those other wives might have their doubts, but Yasué would be proud to have a son who had the wisdom to bring home someone like this young woman.

‘No, my dear.’ Yasué smiled as she waved away the student’s fears. ‘It’s not your fault at all.’

Yasué would probably never see this young woman again. She could afford to speak freely, for once.

‘The truth is that I just had no desire to go out to eat at an expensive restaurant with those ladies. Especially not when I had left the fried rice that I threw together for my husband and son to microwave at home. How silly for me to go out on my own for a set-menu lunch that costs five thousand yen. The thought of it is what made my stomach hurt all of a sudden.’

Yasué paused before adding another excuse.

‘Um … My friend who threw her bag onto the seat … she means well enough but she sees nothing wrong with doing something like that. Of course, I’m at fault for not saying anything but, saving a seat for me the way she did, it was really shameful and embarrassing.’

The college student sat down next to Yasué.

‘… I’m sorry for making that nasty comment, without knowing the circumstances.’

‘Not at all, my dear. As I said, I’m the one at fault for not having the nerve to say anything.’

‘I disagree, auntie.’ The woman looked Yasué intensely in the eyes. ‘If you had said something, the bag-tosser would have hated on you. If I’d known about the hating, I wouldn’t have lumped you in with them. You say that she means well but I don’t think she really does.’

‘Uh … what do you mean by “hated on”?’ Yasué wasn’t sure she’d heard her correctly.

‘It’s just a way to say she’d freeze you out of the group. It’s a phrase we use these days.’

‘How interesting! I’ve never heard it before.’

‘So, you always carry stomach medicine with you?’

‘Lately, this kind of sudden pain has been happening more often,’ Yasué replied softly.

‘Like, whenever you go out with those ladies?’

Yasué nodded freely.

‘’Scuse me for saying this but,’ the student began, her tone not all that concerned, ‘what if you stopped being friends with those women? Before your stomach medicine stops working.’

Yasué tilted her head, as the student added, her tone a bit irritated now, ‘Stress is stress. Being in that group is clearly stressful for you, auntie, for it to trigger a sudden attack like that. But then once you’re away from them, you seem perfectly fine.’

Yasué herself had been vaguely aware of this, but to acknowledge that it was true would have only led to further troublesome realities that she preferred to avoid facing.

‘Well … I’ve known them for a long time.’

‘OK, but let me tell you, auntie, those ladies take you for granted.’

The young woman’s words were so candid and she spoke with such conviction. Yasué was unconsciously gripping the water bottle tightly. The truth was, she had vaguely known this too.

‘When you’re out with a friend who doesn’t feel well, it’d be normal – even if just for show – to get off the train with them to make sure they’re OK. That lot didn’t even get up out of their seats. They were like, “Oh dear, but we’re on our way to lunch,” as if lunch was more important to them than you are. Auntie, it’s like it doesn’t matter to them whether you’re there or not. Do you really think it’s worth the effort of staying friends with people who take you for granted like that?’

‘Hmm … I guess you’re right.’ Yasué found herself nodding vigorously again. Especially in recent years, she had been enjoying herself markedly less and less whenever she was with the group. Maybe it was because, once their children had graduated from junior high and went on to different high schools, they were no longer bound together by the PTA, as it were. The only thing Yasué had ever had in common with those women was their children’s school.

‘Also,’ and here the student’s expression became stern, ‘better to cut ties with people whose values make you uncomfortable. Otherwise, the longer you stay with them, the more you risk compromising your own values for the sake of theirs.’

She must have had a painful experience herself. Though she didn’t seem to be all that much younger than Yasué’s daughter, there was a note of gravity in the woman’s voice.

‘And not being true to yourself might lead you to collapse from the stress. Look at how it’s already affecting you!’ She laughed out loud. ‘So what’s it gonna be?’

Yasué responded with her own question.

‘Why are you telling me all this?’

The student appeared taken aback. She pondered it for a moment and then replied, ‘There was a time when I was headed in the wrong direction and having a hard time, and someone I just happened to meet gave me some good advice. I just happened to meet you today, auntie. I guess that’s why.’

During the daytime, the Imazu Line runs in both directions at ten-minute intervals. Off in the distance, they could just hear the signal at the crossing, heralding the next train’s arrival.

‘Thank you. I hope you’ll take the next train and continue on your way. As for me, I’ll take the next train back home.’

‘OK. You seem better now, but please take care.’

The student stood up from the bench and moved towards a boarding spot on the platform.

Just as the train slid into the station, Yasué called out to her. ‘I will start by trying to put a little distance between myself and them!’

The young woman turned round to Yasué and, grinning, flashed her a thumbs-up. Once the train doors opened, she stepped inside without looking back again.

Which was appropriate for someone she had just happened to meet.

As she exited through the ticket gate and headed for the opposite platform, Yasué was pondering.

She would start by increasing her hours at her part-time job. There was the matter of her husband’s tax exemption for dependents, but she would consult with him and figure out the maximum she could still work.

Lately things had been tight with their household budget. And her son would soon be going off to university. If she were to gradually decrease the number of times she saw those women, then perhaps they’d eventually stop calling her – especially since, as the college student had said, they took Yasué for granted anyway.

If she were to mention her budget woes, those women might say that her husband didn’t provide for her adequately. He wasn’t the kind of man to worry about such opinions, but Yasué would be much happier not to have to feel guilty about spending so much on a designer handbag just to keep up with them.

Instead, she would take that five thousand yen and her whole family could have dinner at her son’s favourite restaurant.

And then, above all, she would be the kind of wife and mother about whom no stranger would ever say, Unbelievable. Old ladies are the worst.