[9] The day afterwards, a sunny Saturday, was strangely anti-climactic at first. Megumi rummaged through the refrigerator, sleepy and in the mood for some snacks. Her mother was out of the house. She had a tendency for leaving briskly and arriving whenever she felt like it. Megumi had gotten used to her tornado-like personality. No, it was her aunt’s appearance that was still a little too fresh for her. Shiori was also at home, lounging ontop of the couch like she owned it, and even worse - she was listening to those awful soap operas. “Shinji! Is it true? Did your father really murder mine?!” “Please Mio, don’t misunderstand! He only did it to save my brother’s life! His financial life, that is.” “I can’t marry a murderer...this wedding is over!” Megumi looked tiredly at her aunt, who was watching the TV like it was the greatest thing ever. She turned to her, and asked: “Shiori, why do you even watch this stuff?” Megumi’s hatred of dramatic television shows shone through her as she also watched the spectacle happening on the TV. But Shiori paid her no mind. “Shhh, the drama is just getting started! And anyway, why do you care about what I like so much?” Megumi felt a little embarrassed. “I don’t, it’s just a little childish, is all. I have never seen anyone like these trashy shows as much as you do.” Shiori: “You mean, you haven’t seen anyone, period.” That remark made Megumi hover her hand dangerously close to the remote, and that’s when Shiori began to stammer anxiously. “Ah, h-hey Megumi, don’t touch the remote! I have to know whether or not Mio will survive!” She snapped out of her anger, and her brows furrowed confusedly. “Survive? From what? Wasn’t she supposed to get married?” Shiori met her eyes and smirked in an annoyingly smug way. “That was two minutes ago. Now she contracted a disease from a glass her hateful sister Rio gave her, and since then, Mio and Shinji’s mother have been fighting due to Mio’s newly-orphaned status! In fact, now that she has lost all of the rich Shinji’s favor, the wedding can’t continue, and she might even become homeless. Crazy, right?” “All that happened in two minutes?? How did her entire life unravel that fast?? And what’s wrong with that Shinji guy, isn’t he human scum?!” Megumi, who never watched these kind of shows, felt extremely surprised by the quickness of the blows dealt to the protagonist Mio. Wasn’t she supposed to be the protagonist? Why is she getting tortured this much? How did that make sense?! And that Shinji guy! Didn’t that guy murder her father in the name of love? Now he just dumped her by the wayside, even though it was his own fault she’s an orphan. This was too ridiculous to be allowed to exist. As Megumi contemplated these twists, Shiori didn’t seem to understand her confusion. “What are you talking about, Megumi? This isn’t even the season finale,” said Shiori lazily, and that statement scared Megumi even more. This level of craziness was normal for the show?? What kind of stupid writer is in charge of this show? As she watched more she saw Rio be used as a substitute bride, Shinji falling in love with Rio and proposing to her, and the mother-in-law’s brutal death at the hands of Mio’s childhood friend Tomoda, who was secretly watching Mio’s misfortune unfold in the bushes while biting his lips until they bled. As the ending credits rolled Megumi felt like she had aged twenty years, and yet there was a strange need to watch the next episode. But she hit her treacherous hand before Shiori noticed it hovering again above the remote. She was right. Soap operas were indeed evil. And Shiori, who frequently watched those monstrosities, to the point of being normalized to all that insanity? It was too scary to even think about. Suddenly, the door bell sounded. “Huh, I wonder who that could be,” said Megumi. Her family rarely had visits from anyone in particular. She earnestly hoped that wasn’t about to change, now that Shiori was living with them. She opened the door and was shocked to see a completely unknown woman. She was a rather pretty, and young too - as the door opened, her vibrant hazel eyes refocused on Megumi’s green ones. “Oh, hello!” she said warmly. “Hi,” replied Megumi. An awkward silence ensued. Had Megumi ever seen her before? Was she supposed to know her? Racking her brain for clues, she could not come up with a single plausible answer. Maybe on TV? “I don’t think you remember me. We’ve met. I’m Wakaba, Shun’s mother.” and at that, Megumi’s eyes widened. She did not remember who this lady was, but one thing was certain - she was NOT that guy’s mom! It had been a little while since she moved from Kyoto. Last time she was there, she had been nine, but she doubted her memory was that horrible. She was pretty sure Shun’s mom was a lot plainer in image. And a lot older. Surgery? No, this was just another person entirely. Ah, Shun’s dad probably remarried. Yet, it was pretty clear that this lady wanted Megumi to think she was Shun's birth mother. She had no idea why. But it wasn't her business, so she did not mind. With disbelieving eyes, she stared at the unfamiliar woman again, and muttered, “is that so?” She wanted out of this depressing conversation. Suddenly, there was a shift in the air. “Yes! I have taken care of him for so many years now. We have such a close bond.” At this point, it dawned upon Megumi - she might've offended this woman. She picked up on her disbelief, it seemed. Ah, thought Megumi, why can’t I lie more convincingly? How did I pick a fight with my face alone? It would seem that this woman was Suzuki’s recent stepmother. Probably harboring deep insecurities about her new role as a mother, she was desperately attempting to come off as a loving and legitimate. Megumi had no problem with that, she just didn’t get why she had to deal with this random lady’s marital delusions. “I’m sure you do,” said Megumi, which really just translated to: “I don’t know you, so I’m sure you do.” “So, you think I’m lying? What? “You do, don’t you? You’re just like everyone else. Why? Why would I lie?” came the pissed off retort from Wakaba. Oh no, thought Megumi. She snapped. “How can you stand there and assume the worst out of my marriage? What would you know of marriage?” 'Nothing, ideally. Because I’m 14,' Megumi wanted to inject, but she would probably only succeed in making the lady angrier. Yet the lady continued. “Who do you think you are?” and in this pattern, she continued arguing, her voice growing in volume. Megumi, realizing they were in an open street, and slowly gaining attention, attempted to appease her. “No, no, you’re misunderstanding. I wasn’t berating you, per se - it’s just..” “Just what!” “I...I used to live close to Shun back in Kyoto, so....” At that, Wakaba realized that Megumi knew the truth; and she flushed scarlet in deep embarrassment. “I--you, all the time you knew...” Unable to stomach seeing a person self-destruct right in front of her, Megumi took the woman’s hand and dragged her inside the neighboring house. Then, she seated the frozen Wakaba at the table and readied for a quick exit, but hesitated. She’s been through so many embarrassing moments herself, she thought. It didn’t feel right to leave a woman who is wounded all alone like this. Ah, thought Megumi. She could feel the ulcers forming out of sheer stress. What a waste of a Saturday. “You know, “ she started, regaining Wakaba’s attention. “I used to live in Kyoto.” “I used to live there, and I saw Shun’s father now and then. And I have never seen his father smile, not even once.” Wakaba’s eyes grew wet. “That’s how I know you must matter a lot to him.” Translation: ....Probably. “I’m sure you get all manner of remarks from other people due to your...situation. And while it isn’t the most normal to be so young, you don’t have to try so hard all the time.” The look in the woman’s eyes was suddenly so lost and confused. “I don’t?” Megumi smiled warmly at her. “You don’t. All you have to do is be yourself, and take care of your loved ones in your own way. You’ll only hurt yourself if you don’t.” In reality, Wakaba was a complete stranger to Megumi, and a 20 minute conversation could never make her realize all the intricacies of an unknown couple’s marriage. But she was hurting, and Megumi wanted to assauge her pain, even if it was just a little. Wakaba gave an uncertain smile. “It’s been hard.” “I’m sure.” “Everyone assumes I married him for money, or for status. But I really truly love him.” Megumi put her hand on her back in support. “That’s nice.” “I thought it wouldn’t be such a problem. But his in-laws hate me, and the children barely tolerate me. I, I suppose I felt more cornered than I thought.” “That kind of feeling is normal. All you need is to do is have someone to talk to. Don’t you think you deserve to let your husband know how you feel?” Wakaba chewed her lip. “I thought about that, but...I don’t want to burden him. Maybe his opinion of me will drop if he sees I can’t handle a thing like this.” “Or,” said Megumi encouragingly. “It might bring you closer together. For better or for worse, he’s your husband, is he not? He might appreciate your honesty and vulnerability.” Translation: Maybe?? Megumi felt like the world’s biggest hypocrite, lecturing an older lady like this, when she was so socially incompetent. She might genuinely be the reason behind Shun’s parents divorcing in the future, and he would never even know. Thinking such thoughts, Megumi’s anxiety continued to skyrocket in Wakaba’s silence. But once she saw Wakaba’s smile regaining its radience, she knew she had said something right. “You’re right. I should tell him my feelings, and I’m sure he would appreciate it. I’ll tell him as soon as he gets home!” Megumi felt a bit bad about that. Her advice was potentially ruining this guy’s afternoon. “You wouldn’t know it, but he is the biggest sweetheart you know!” Megumi severely doubted that, but she held her tongue. He was always so stonefaced in her childhood. What was happening? “He jumps at the slightest noise. Ah, and he cant stand insects, he keeps calling for me to get rid of them! Cute, right?” Now she was just demolishing his image. Was it intentional? Suddenly, a distorted version of Suzuki Sr. appeared in her mind; with his stoneface and briefcase, he held a teddy bear and stood on top of a bed, screaming for his wife to kill a cockroach. It was so distorted from reality, it wasn’t funny. “In any case,” Megumi began, “I should probably get home. My aunt is probably worrying about where I am right now.” Shiori probably couldn’t care less, what with the mountain of soaps in front of her, but she wasn’t telling Wakaba that. “Oh. You really can’t stay for longer? I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time,” she said, and as soon as she said it, the door bell sounded and someone stepped inside. “Wait here, I’ll cook something up for you, Megumi. It’s the least I can do for you listening to my concerns like this.” And just like that, Megumi was in the middle of an awkward stand off once more. Suzuki Shun, wearing a soccer uniform, looked at her in pure shock. “Eh, Megumi? Why are you here?” asked Shun, thoroughly confused. Wakaba was no help, only humming happily in the kitchen as she prepared dinner. It was so sudden, so abrupt, that she didn’t even register it at first. But when she did, she couldn’t believe her bad luck. This kind of thing keeps happening these days. Ah, why me?