#50: Masquerade / ep.2
At Hotel Maverick, Rinko spotted Kuzé Fumika at the special reception desk set up beside the Grand Reception Hall, where the dance party was being held.
There was no mistaking her. She was the leading actress from the play Rinko had gone to see four years ago because of her interest in Kotone. Rinko couldn’t remember what stage name she had used back then, but there was no doubt that Fumika had been Shandy’s colleague both during her acting career and in her time working at the hotel.
Once they had passed through the entrance, Rinko spoke to the woman beside her who was still completely immersed in the role of Riddle Smith.
“So what do we do now? We don’t actually have invitations, do we?”
“Just… go… to reception… The pass… is… there…………”
“…This is so tedious. Can’t you just talk normally when it’s just the two of us?”
“N-no… I can’t…… Someone might… be watching……”
“Oh, fine…”
Rinko drooped her head at Shandy’s thoroughly committed performance.
Apparently, Shandy had chosen Rinko for the infiltration because the Hibiya Secretarial Division, including Akazawa, had never seen her face. But Mikoto and Sanae were here tonight too. Simply putting her hair up would never be enough to fool them.
“M-Maria-san… put… this… on……”
Shandy produced a mask that covered only the area around the eyes. The sort used at European society balls and Venetian carnivals.
A masquerade mask.
“No. It’s embarrassing.”
“If you… don’t wear it… they’ll recognise you… If Mikoto-san… recognises us… everything… will get back to the enemy………… That woman… can’t lie……”
“Oh, honestly…”
The two of them put on their masks then and there.
Two mysterious beauties in dresses, their eyes hidden behind masks.
For an infiltration mission that required them to blend into a crowd, they stood out more than ever.
The other guests were staring.
“We’re getting stared at like crazy, you know?”
“It’s… fine…… They’ll just think… we’re weirdos… wearing masks…… Nobody’s… interested in… the people underneath……”
“So they do think we’re weirdos…”
“What did you expect?”
Shandy, or rather Riddle Smith, gave a mocking little snicker.
Rinko was annoyed, but causing a scene here would defeat the entire purpose of infiltrating the party.
For now, all she could do was follow Shandy’s instructions and head towards reception as though nothing were unusual. Rinko forcibly linked arms with the stooping Shandy and converted her tremendous irritation into the force of her footsteps, escorting her to reception.
Or rather, dragging her there.
“Welco—”
The hotel employee standing at reception, Fumika, fell completely silent the moment she made eye contact with them.
Naturally, Rinko herself wasn’t what had shocked her.
It was the woman beside her.
Riddle Smith looked exactly like Akutagawa Alice.
“I-I… don’t have… an invitation… Is that… okay…………?”
At Riddle Smith’s question, Fumika glanced around before speaking into the intercom she was wearing.
Rinko couldn’t make out what she said. Some sort of code, presumably.
After a short pause, Fumika bowed deeply.
“…We’ve been expecting you. We’ll complete your registration in the private room. This way, please.”
Fumika told the colleagues on either side of her that she was leaving her post, then led Rinko and Shandy into a room near the venue.
Despite being called a private room, it was more like a storage area, crammed with hotel equipment and decorations. Presumably, it was somewhere only hotel staff were permitted to enter.
The moment she closed the door, Fumika let out an exaggerated sigh of utter exasperation.
“Honestly. You’re taking this joke far too far…”
“I only showed her an invitation. It’s a pass that works exclusively with Fumika-chan, though.”
“Oh, you mean your face is the invitation?”
Rinko nodded to herself in understanding.
Shandy simply replied, “Yes.”
Apparently, her plan had been to rely on Fumika, as a member of the hotel staff, to let them into the party on her own authority.
Fumika, however, had anticipated that and stopped her.
“I’m sorry, but this hotel does not offer that sort of service. No matter how much of a favour a senior colleague asks of me, I cannot betray our customer, Hibiya Trading. I hope you understand.”
“You don’t trust Rinko-san and me?”
“I know you’re not the sort of people who would harm the other guests, but I cannot allow uninvited guests into the venue.”
“Boo. Fumika-chan is stingy.”
“I am neither stingy nor a water strider.”
“You’re hopeless…”
Rinko slumped.
She had gone to the trouble of buying a dress for tonight, visiting a salon and even going to a beauty treatment clinic.
And now she had been turned away at the door.
She was going to charge antiqua for every penny of it.
Just as Rinko was working herself into a fury, Shandy spoke.
“So, if we were invited, that would solve the problem?”
“Well… if Hibiya Trading approves of you, we have no reason to refuse you.”
“Rinko-san, would you indulge me a little longer?”
“What are you planning?”
Shandy narrowed her red contact-lensed eyes into a crescent.
“To the heart of the enemy. We’ll storm the Hibiya Secretarial Division and have them invite us directly.”
＊
“Eek!? W-what on earth is this!?”
The dressing room backstage at the adjoining theatre.
At the scream that came from the other side of the partition, Mikoto hurried over and looked inside.
It was an ordinary tatami-floored dressing room.
Before Sanae, who was in the process of taking off her blouse, lay a black and unmistakable costume.
Fishnet tights.
Fluffy white pom-poms.
And two things that looked suspiciously like pointed ears.
“…I believe it’s a bunny-girl costume.”
“I know that! Why is my costume this!?”
“Well, I suppose it can only be harassment…”
Mikoto stopped halfway through her sentence.
They still hadn’t opened the costume box they had received from the Secretarial Division.
If Sanae had been given a black bunny-girl outfit, perhaps Mikoto was about to suffer the same fate.
Damn you, Akazawa! Anything but the bunny girl!
With mounting dread, Mikoto opened her own box.
Inside was an entirely black outfit.
It obviously wasn’t a dress.
“I am NEVER wearing this again!”
Overwhelmed by humiliation and frustration, Mikoto kicked the box with all her strength.
The costume spilled onto the floor.
And then Mikoto realised it wasn’t what she had expected.
The outfit assigned to Mikoto wasn’t a bunny-girl costume.
It was a tuxedo.
At that moment, there was a knock at the dressing-room door.
Without waiting for Mikoto and Sanae to answer, the woman who had presumably devised this harassment appeared.
Akazawa Kuruha.
“Oh? You two haven’t changed yet? I prepared outfits that would look soooo good on you!”
“Akazawa Kuruha…! What the hell have you done, you bloody idiot!? You think I’m going to wear this!?”
“Why is Sanae-san suddenly speaking Kansai dialect!?”
For some reason, Sanae was berating Akazawa in a thick Kansai dialect.
But that hardly mattered.
Mikoto stepped towards Akazawa as well.
In her anger, she had even forgotten the mature demeanour she normally maintained at Hibiya, along with her polite speech.
“What exactly are you playing at, Akazawa-san?”
“Fufu. So you really didn’t know? The Secretarial Division’s regular gathering has a dress code. It wouldn’t look beautiful if everyone lined up together and someone happened to be wearing the same dress, would it?”
“This isn’t a dress! Especially Sanae-san’s!”
“Oh? Does Mi-chan want to wear the bunny outfit too?”
“I never said anything like that!”
“Fufu? Are you sure it’s wise to defy me?”
Akazawa gave an alluring little laugh.
Her heavily defined, prominent tear bags stood out beneath her eyes. Her deep crimson dress, its back dramatically exposed, suited her name and radiated an intense sensuality.
“I don’t mind if you don’t want to wear them. But the dress code is an instruction from the Secretarial Division, you know?”
“…And?”
Sanae regained her composure and returned to standard Japanese.
Akazawa continued, utterly unruffled.
“So if you don’t wear them, you’ll be disobeying a company order, won’t you? Oh, and by the way. I wouldn’t recommend thinking about suing me for sexual harassment. You know we have connections with the people upstairs, Sanae-chan.”
“Guh…”
“Fufu. I like clever girls. Mi-chan understands too, right? If you don’t quietly put it on, I’ll scatter all sorts of photographs around. Those pictures of you bowing on the floor the other day. Pictures of you having an affair with a blonde foreign beauty. With your names attached, of course.”
“…Why are you going this far? Is Kosugi really that important to you!?”
At Mikoto’s shout, Akazawa’s face twitched.
“That man? Important to me? Of course not.”
“Then why—”
“I don’t have a choice!”
Akazawa changed completely.
That was the only way to describe it.
The smug, irritating voice vanished, replaced by something suddenly hysterical.
“…Mi-chan and Sanae-chan have to be humiliated in front of a crowd. Otherwise Kosugi won’t be satisfied.”
The sensuality surrounding Akazawa had transformed into a quiet hatred.
Her expression was like someone chewing on something bitter, and there was even a strange weakness to her.
“Will humiliating us really satisfy Kosugi?”
“How should I know!? The only thing I can do is harass you two! And that bastard is threatening to expose the fact that I was hired through connections…!”
Akazawa suddenly realised she had said too much.
She straightened herself and continued.
“…Anyway, if you don’t want to violate company regulations, wear those and come to the venue. I have a meeting with everyone in the Secretarial Division in thirty minutes.”
As Akazawa turned to leave, Mikoto felt compelled to say something.
“Wearing a tuxedo isn’t going to embarrass me, you know. I’ve already been exposed to the entire country in a much more embarrassing state than this.”
“…Fufu. Fufufu.”
Akazawa giggled mockingly.
Then she gave an elegant bow, just as Fumika had during their dance lesson.
“Mi-chan is dancing with me. At the end of the dance party, during the exhibition dance where every guest will be watching.”
“What…?”
“I never told you, but I do competitive ballroom dancing. Amateur Class 2. Two levels below professional certification. So I’m pretty damn good. What do you think will happen when you dance with someone like me? Your feet will get tangled, you’ll fall over, and you’ll humiliate yourself. You’ll tarnish the company’s reputation at a social event. Fufufu…”
Mikoto remembered the day she had taken lessons with Shandy.
What Shandy had taught her was merely the form, plausible-looking steps designed to fool people who didn’t know anything about dance.
Someone who actually specialised in dancing would see through them immediately.
And, at the end, Shandy had told her:
It took me about three years, too. For you, Mikoto-san, I’d say you need to give it about three times that. Nine years or so.
Don’t worry. That’s only if you intend to compete in the world of ballroom dancing.
“So that’s the Secretarial Division’s plan? They intend to expose the fact that Kurosu-san, who is currently assigned to General Affairs, is unfit for the Secretarial Division’s work at a social event, and use that to protect their own positions.”
Akazawa silently smiled.
A smug little grin.
“I bet you two heard there was going to be ballroom dancing and practised desperately, didn’t you? But Sanae-chan is wearing a bunny costume, so she won’t dance. And Mi-chan is going to dance the men’s side, the leader. All that studying you did was pointless, wasn’t it? What a shame.”
“You…”
“One last thing I’ll tell you. In social dancing, the men’s side, the leader, has more to learn than the women’s side, the partner, so it’s harder. Apparently the man’s side takes about three times as long to learn. Well, see you later.”
With a triumphant smile, Akazawa left the dressing room.
Silence descended.
Mikoto and Sanae were alone, staring at the tuxedo.
“…Kurosu-san. I’m an employee of Hibiya. If this is a work order, I believe I have no choice but to wear it. But you are only here on secondment. You have no need to put it on.”
Despite the fact that Sanae herself was surely suffering more, she was still concerned about Mikoto.
It hurt.
But Mikoto’s thoughts had already moved somewhere else.
“Three times…”
“What about it?”
“Sanae-san, I’m sorry, but could you dance with me for a moment?”
“…I don’t mind, but there’s nothing we can do by practising now.”
Mikoto embraced the half-resigned Sanae and assumed the closed position exactly as she had been taught.
Their right sides pressed together, their arms linked, one hand placed around the other’s back.
“One, two, three. One, two, three.”
She repeated the three-beat rhythm.
She drew Sanae closer and guided her body in time with the music.
Sanae must have practised on her own to some extent. Her movements followed Mikoto’s lead, awkwardly but obediently.
First, the natural spin turn.
Then the reverse turn.
After that, the whisk and the chassé from PP.
Once she had gone through the four steps she had been taught, Mikoto finally noticed something strange.
“…Have I figured something out?”
“What is it?”
“I really was taught the men’s side. The leader…”
“Pardon…?”
Mikoto remembered.
During that entire lesson, Shandy had never once tried to lead her.
At first, she had dragged Mikoto around by force, but after that, every part of their practice had involved Mikoto taking the lead while Shandy spun around with her.
Sometimes Shandy had added variations.
Sometimes she had danced entirely off the cuff.
So. Who will be Mikoto’s partner for the social dance?
At present, I don’t know. If we’re speaking ordinarily, probably some important man from the political or business world.
Then I can’t lend my Mikoto to him. I’m skipping the party. That’s the end of the discussion.
Shandy had refused after hearing about the dance party from Sanae.
She had learned that Mikoto would be dancing with men and rejected the whole thing.
Mikoto had immediately scolded her, assuming she was simply jealous.
But perhaps Shandy had…
“Shandy-san taught me for this…”
Of course, it might have simply been one of Shandy’s games.
Perhaps she had only wanted to dance with Mikoto herself.
Even so, Shandy had deliberately taught Mikoto the more difficult men’s movements and the responsibility that came with leading.
Perhaps Shandy had anticipated that this would happen.
Perhaps she had taught Mikoto so that, even if only a little, she would be able to fight Akazawa and the Secretarial Division.
“U-uuh…”
Warm tears spilled from Mikoto’s eyes.
Unable to suppress her sobs, she crouched down where she stood.
Shandy was a woman who tested love.
Mikoto could not erase the doubts that had arisen in her heart about her.
And yet Shandy was kind.
She always put Mikoto first.
Only now had Mikoto finally realised it.
The powerful love that Shandy expressed without ever explaining herself.
“Kurosu-san…”
“I… I want to apologise to Shandy-san…!”
“…Then please do. She wants you too.”
While Sanae began changing, Mikoto reached for her phone and tried to contact Shandy.
LINE.
A phone call.
Instagram.
Then antiqua’s telephone number.
She tried every method she knew, one after another, desperate to get through to Shandy.
But there was no response.
No read receipt.
No reply to her DM.
The phone was switched off.
And when she called antiqua, she heard only an automated message saying the bar was temporarily closed.
“…………”
The timing was terrible.
Why was it that whenever she desperately wanted to hear Shandy’s voice, she could never reach her?
“…Kurosu-san, we should get changed soon. She isn’t going anywhere.”
“How do you know that…!?”
Sanae smiled gently, the ring on her left ring finger catching the light.
“Call it a senior’s intuition.”
＊
“I can’t believe you actually managed to get invitations…”
As they walked down the corridor of the guest-room floor at Maverick, Rinko muttered in complete disbelief.
After persuading Fumika in the hotel storage room, Rinko and Shandy had gone directly to the guest room where the Hibiya Secretarial Division, the heart of the enemy, had gathered, intending to obtain invitations.
They had no appointment whatsoever.
They didn’t even have any connection to the women.
And yet Charlotte had smoothly talked her way into demanding an audience, and before Rinko knew what was happening, they had somehow found themselves standing before the Secretarial Division.
Only four members of the Secretarial Division were there to receive them.
They were practically the Four Heavenly Kings.
Akazawa Kuruha, the woman Rinko had heard about, was away, but even without her, the Secretarial Division was intimidating.
Every one of them was beautiful.
And every one had at least one or two unpleasant quirks.
Before these women, Riddle Smith had delivered an uninterrupted stream of enormous lies, despite her supposed stutter.
She claimed:
She had a business plan to replace Hibiya’s permanent General Affairs employees with deep-learning-based business-efficiency solutions.
Venture-capital funding had left her with a generous budget, and she was preparing for an IPO.
There was a possibility of future joint operations with Hibiya.
If they advertised themselves as a company supporting couples like them, they could change the world.
Let’s change the world together. Our slogan: Let’s Diversity.
Every word was an enormous lie, so outrageous that even Rinko had wanted to cover her eyes.
There was no way Charlotte, a former actress and current bartender, could actually accomplish any of this.
Rinko couldn’t imagine anyone falling for it.
And yet, somehow, all four members of the Secretarial Division had believed every word.
Unanimously, they had handed over invitations.
“They were unbelievably easy. They think scattering katakana English around makes you sound intelligent. Oh, right. I forgot I’m supposed to stay in character.”
“Stay like that for a while. When you act like Riddle Smith, it annoys me even more.”
“D-don’t… s-say… th-that…”
“I said stop doing that. And honestly, the Secretarial Division pisses me off even more than you do…”
“Agreed. Women who can’t stand not having the upper hand over everyone else. They looked like such good friends, but I wonder what sort of monsters they’re raising inside themselves. It’s the first time we’ve agreed on something, isn’t it?”
“Having something in common with you pisses me off too…”
“You really are short-tempered. It’s rather cute, though.”
“I’m not remotely pleased to hear that from you.”
“Yes. I’m afraid my compliment was wasted.”
Even so, Charlotte’s enormous lies had secured them invitations.
All that remained was to enter the venue according to her plan and observe what was happening inside.
What they could actually do once they had observed everything was completely unclear.
But not thinking that far ahead was one of Rinko’s strengths.
“…I’ll protect you, Mikoto-san.”
“Fufu. Do your best—”
Suddenly, Charlotte switched back into Riddle Smith.
She fully embraced the stammering, shy personality and clutched Rinko’s sleeve.
“What now…?”
“Th-there…”
Slowly, Riddle Smith pointed.
A woman emerged from the elevator on the hotel’s guest-room floor.
She wore a red-and-black two-tone dress.
Her posture, however, was completely at odds with her beautiful appearance as she stomped along the corridor.
Kurosu Kotone.
“Wait, why is she— But… wow, she’s beautiful!”
“This is… n-no time… to stare…”
Kotone’s eyes met Rinko’s.
Rinko immediately lowered her head.
She was wearing a mask, and her hairstyle and dress were completely different from usual.
There was no way Kotone could recognise her so easily.
Or so she thought.
“Ahahaha! I knew you’d come. There’s no way you wouldn’t rush over when my sister’s in trouble, right?”
Kotone approached Rinko, her heels sinking into the soft carpet.
Rinko desperately searched for an excuse, but Kotone read even that intention.
She twisted her lips into the grin of a mischievous child.
“Hey, Rin-chan. And Shan-sis?”