A story from Japan. I had a white dog at home. He was a mixed breed, to the extent that when people asked me what breed he was, I had trouble replying. Sometimes, people would say he looked like a Samoyed. My mother got him from an acquaintance when he was a puppy.
Although I’m now afraid of animals in general, my dog used to snub me back then. He would obey my father’s, mother’s, and sister’s orders but never listen to me. In elementary school, I recall being dragged along the street by the dog’s leash, tears streaming from my eyes.
Dogs are clever animals, and they can distinguish certain words. Whenever they heard the words “jerky” or “walk,” they would wag their tails in delight.
On that day, he heard the word “walk” from my mother’s mouth and was excited. Guided by the owner he trusted, he got into the car and was dropped off at the veterinary clinic. The dog was picked up and placed on the examination table without resistance. He looked up at my mother with moistened eyes, unable to believe he had been betrayed.
Seeing this, I giggled and laughed.
And now I’m the one being laughed at.
“Please don’t move too much.”
Like a dog on an examination table, my movements were restricted. I was surrounded by several people and had something wrapped around my body.
Patrick, the traitor, isn’t there. So I stare at his accomplice, Eleanora. Help.
“Lovely! Simply lovely!”
Nope. Eleanora is in the same category as those who do whatever they want with my body.
I’m being made to try on wedding dresses. It must have been embarrassing to run into a dress shop with my tail wagging. You can laugh at me all you want.
Under the direction of an Auntie who seemed to be the boss, four ladies were busily working, applying a tape measure around my body.
I even resentfully screamed at Patrick, who had disappeared before I changed my clothes. The ladies working so quickly without thinking about it must have been brainwashed by their boss.
I can’t tell you how many lifespans I would lose if I stayed in a place like this for too long. I entered the shop excitedly, and Patrick told me, “Do it right, try it on, and take your measurements,” and then stuck me in a wedding dress without explaining it to me… By the time I realized something was wrong, it was too late.
Let’s run away. The biggest obstacle to my escape is Patrick. He isn’t here, but is he waiting in the other room? I tried to find out.
“Where is Patrick? Since we’re here, wouldn’t it be better if he could see it?”
“It’s best to show off on the official day. That’s why I’m on guard duty.”
“He’s not in the other room, is he?”
“No, he’s not. Patrick-sama is taking care of something else.”
Eleanora, who is on surveillance, blurts out critical information.
Knowing that he isn’t there and that I can escape anytime, I feel more at ease. Then something else comes to mind.
I was tricked into trying on wedding dresses because they were wary of my escape. Had I been told the truth before I came to the capital, I would have refused to go out, which I understand. What I don’t understand is the necessity of trying on the dress.
After trying it on, I found that the size fits perfectly, and there is no problem with the details. The mysterious ritualistic adjustment is still going on, even though it is safe to call it quits.
I say to the Auntie, who keeps giving instructions with a frown on her face.
“It fits perfectly, doesn’t it? Can’t we stop now that it’s finished?”
“We can’t do that.”
“Umm, no.”
“There, it looks like it can be stuffed in more… yes, about that much. It’s a bit more streamlined, but I’d like to add another layer of frills… hmm, the whole thing just doesn’t balance out.”
She immediately turned down my proposal; from then on, all I could do was wear the dress. I thought that if I could defeat the boss, the rest would be taken care of, but as expected, the boss proved to be formidable.
Realizing my disadvantage, I shifted my target to Eleanora, who looked ecstatic.
“Please don’t tell me I have to do this, Eleanora-sama. Isn’t this enough?”
“Don’t worry. It will be much, much better!”
That’s not it. I’m not afraid that you’ve attempted to improve it by trial and error, but it will get worse. As long as you can avoid the worst, like being too small to wear or too big and loose, then it’s a success.
The size isn’t a problem. The measurements were taken in advance. If we can complete something that fits so well using only numbers, that’s good enough for me.
What’s the point of making any more adjustments? If you gain a little weight before the wedding, it’s over.
“It’s better to have a little bit of room. Your body shape will change a little in a few months.”
“I’m sure she will be able to maintain her current figure. Even when Yumiela-san eats a lot, she doesn’t gain weight.”
“Do I eat that much? I usually eat about the normal amount.”
“Hmm, Yumiela-san isn’t much of a glutton… You just eat everything you have.”
Patrick said something similar to me the other day.
Putting aside the unflattering comments about how much I eat, I think I’m one step closer to achieving persuasion on the weight gain side of the equation. From today until the day of the ceremony, I can manage by stressing how much I will be binge drinking and eating.
I’ll devise an equivalent expression for drinking ramen soup thoroughly at every meal in this world. Eating pasta at every meal… that’s weak. Would it be safer to compare it to something sweet?
As I racked my brains, the boss auntie… is probably the shop owner. She spoke decisively.
“I have no problem going there a few days in advance and making last-minute adjustments. It’s only a few months, your physique doesn’t change that much.”
“…Then I will lose weight. I will continue fasting until I am one step short of being a mummy.”
“We can use padding.”
Ah, right. Adding cotton padding to the extent of the weight I’ve lost will solve the problem.
Is losing weight harmful? I’m interested in self-mummification, but I won’t go out of my way to do it before the wedding.
My shoulders slumped, and I saw my body covered in white lace and frills.
This reminded me of a very flashy bird that lives in tropical countries. Those ornamental feathers are supposedly for the male to court the female.
What courtship ornaments? One factor that has contributed to the human species’ prosperity is the existence of language. We have complex vocal organs, and the part of the brain that controls communication is well-developed. Why should humans communicate their love through ornaments? Please embellish your words if you have time to dress up in clothes and makeup.
…No, isn’t it reasonable for people to dress up? Words are powerless. When I verbally suggested stopping the fitting, it was never agreed. On the contrary, I was also told in words the importance of adjustment, but I didn’t change my mind.
No matter how well you spin your words, it is difficult to change people. No matter how wonderfully embellished the words, no matter how honest and unadorned they are, when they are powerless, they are overwhelmingly powerless.
“Is it a blessing or a curse that we are given the ability to speak?”
“Don’t move too much.”
When I thought deeply about the wonderful and lamentable characteristics of human beings, I was scolded. Huh, I guess this is an age when philosophers are no longer necessary.
Frustrated with overly ambiguous communication tools, I began to seek an escape route. Going outside may be easy, but dealing with the pure white restraints is a hassle. The amount of loss if I damage it is unimaginable. Do I take them off and then run away, or do I take them off after running away? Let’s not forget to secure a change of clothes.
Eleanora utters helplessness from her mouth while I’m busy forming a plan.
“Oh, don’t even think about running away.”
“…I’m not thinking about that.”
“Huh? You’ve suddenly become so quiet, I thought you were planning an escape.”
My thoughts were being read.
I can understand if Patrick can see through me at a hundred paces. But is my thinking so simple and evident that Eleanora-chan could see through it?
The sudden silence seemed too obvious, and her expression turned grim.
“Why can’t you just stay still?”
“If you’re too unresistant, you’ll be thrust into a similar situation again, won’t you? It creates a negative track record that I will take the dress fitting quietly. The first time may be unavoidable, but you resist as much as you can to avoid the second or third time.”
The result may be the same, but the behavior during the process is important. If I don’t do enough to prevent Eleanora and Patrick from saying, “Hohoho~ no more making Yumiela try on clothes,” there will always be a next time.
I’ve been thinking about it properly as well. Despite all my efforts to show how to survive in a harsh world, Eleanora seems genuinely taken aback.
“Come on…. If you just put up with the unpleasantness for a little while, it will all be over soon.”
Huh? I get the vibe that she isn’t just stunned, but rather genuinely angry. Did I do something to offend Eleanora?
Although I had thought about escaping, I didn’t act on it. I was acting normally, and it was hard to imagine that she would be so upset that it had been an unsuccessful attempt.
Not knowing what to say, a few moments of silence passed. It was Eleanora’s scream that ended it.
“Aaah!”
“Eh? What’s wrong?”
“It’s a cruel thing for me to do unintentionally. It’s Yumiela’s wedding dress, and all you have to do is put up with a few unpleasant things….”
Often, I contemplate what part of this is terrible. I usually don’t like to try on dresses, and it’s not at all awful to make it clear that you don’t like something you don’t want to do.
What bothers her so much? Eleanora turns her head down.
“I’m sorry. If even I find dresses annoying, then it would be really annoying for Yumiela-san, too, wouldn’t it?”
“It’s annoying.”
“But it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”
It would have been nice to do it once in my lifetime, but this and the actual event are two times. I restrained the comment from reflexively leaking out of my mouth. It was just nitpicking.
She looked up, looked me straight in the eye, and continued.
“That’s why I wanted Yumiela-san to be happy in your wedding dress…. I’m sorry for pushing this upon you.”
“I’m happy, okay?”
“…But you tried to escape?”
“In the world in general, or rather according to Eleanora-sama’s sense, is the very act of wearing a wedding dress in itself making you happy? Would you be happy if you were to put on a wedding dress now?”
“Me? I don’t have any plans to get married. I think the dress itself is pretty and lovely, but it doesn’t make me very happy….”
I figured that would be the case.
Eleanora was getting nervous when she saw me not hiding the cumbersomeness of what was essentially a happy thing to do, so she looked a little sullen.
She is confusing the essence of happiness with the things that accompany it. When she says that wearing a wedding dress alone doesn’t make you happy, I think she understands this deep down.
It doesn’t mean that wearing a wedding dress will make you happy. Weddings aren’t fun, and marriage doesn’t make us happy. Happiness is walking through the rest of your life with the person you love.
“I agree. The star of the show is Yumiela-san, not the dress.”
“We went through the marriage ceremony to vow to become life partners. The wedding ceremony is held to announce it to everyone and have them celebrate it in a spectacular way. The wedding dress is beautiful and appropriate for the occasion. It’s easy to focus on the glitz and glamour, but the important thing is that you love the person you’re marrying.”
Eleanora’s eyes were moist. Was it that tear-jerking? Suddenly, I noticed the ladies with tape measures and needles had also stopped working.
Boss Auntie’s applause echoes in the silence as the sound of work fades away.
“Marvelous. All we can do is increase people’s happiness. We can’t make unhappy people happy. Sometimes I almost forget that, so I have to keep that in mind.”
“Now that you understand, let’s stop with the adjustments. Please prepare a change of clothes.”
The conversation was intended to resolve Elenora’s dissatisfaction, but it ended on an excellent note. We managed to get by with words without using physical force to escape, didn’t we?
Let’s change clothes quickly and make a legal getaway. I waited for Boss Auntie to signal that she was finished, but she said the opposite.
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Come on, guys, don’t stop, keep working on it.”
The work continued without any sense of meaning. This is how it feels to be on the ground with people who tell you to dig a hole and then order you to cover it up when you are done digging. I don’t understand what they are doing it for and don’t even know when it will end.
When I sighed, Eleanora sighed even louder. Then she said.
“I thought that you should seek your happiness. However, I must still say it. Please be a little happier.”
“Even if you say that… It’s still a hassle to deal with.”
I even thought Yumiela-san would be thrilled to see the dress in front of her.
Nobody in the world would be thrilled to be presented with a plain white dress, believing it would be used to make some fancy mechanical equipment. It makes me feel as sad as when someone tells me they’re going to give me a gas welder as a gift, and I get pocket tissues.
What kind of wishful thinking did Eleanora have? I would be oohing and ahhing over my wedding dress, and after I put it on, I would spin around in front of the mirror and… it would never happen.
The mysterious tasks seemed to have been completed while I was growing increasingly frustrated with the idea of imagining myself in an absolutely impossible way.
The dress tribulation xD