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EDITED TO ADD TEXT OF CAPTION BELOW

It was a bright and sunny Sunday afternoon as Sayuri and Mizuki walked hand in hand through the busy streets of Tokyo. They’d just been to the cinema and were now on their way to Chiyoda to spend a peaceful afternoon in the park. As they were walking along, just as they were passing a busy intersection, Sayuri suddenly jerked her hand out of Mizuki’s.

Her husband looked at her, his eyes wide with surprise, ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

His wife, whose eyes were normally wide and caring, looked back at him with a narrowed scowl. She pointed across the intersection.

‘I’ve just seen my friend over there, I’ll be right back,’ she uncharacteristically snapped. Then, before Mizuki could say anything else, Sayuri darted over the intersection as the lights flashed and traffic resumed, Mizuki strained his eyes as he kept a view of his wife and he watched as she ran up to what looked like a high school girl. The two embraced and seemed to be excited as the two poked and prodded each other’s bodies, before leaning in for a deep kiss. Mizuki couldn’t believe his eyes. Why was his wife making out with a high school girl?

‘Oi oi,’ he shouted, his voice carrying over the traffic. Sayuri and the high schooler broke their making out and glanced over at him, then they ran away. Mizuki made a couple of attempts to rush across the road to see just what was going on, but the traffic was too heavy, and by the time the lights changed to red, his wife and the high school girl were long gone.

He tried calling her phone. No answer. As the daylight faded and night came, he tried calling her friends and family. They hadn’t spoken to her either. The next day came and went, and there was still no sign of Sayuri. Mizuki contemplated calling the police, but what could he say? That his wife was missing? She’d gone of her own accord, hadn’t she? That wouldn’t constitute as a missing persons case, would it? Another day passed. And another. Mizuki, unsure of what to do, carried on with his daily routine as best he could but all the time, he was fretting over where Sayuri had gotten to.

Eventually, Friday came, and Mizuki was dragged along to the weekly afterwork drinking session by his boss. The rest of the office were in a high mood, sales had been good, but Mizuki only looked at the door, never his fellow workers. After a couple of hours, Mizuki made the excuse of feeling ill and left the party and walked morosely through the streets. Everywhere he looked, he could see happy people, happy couples, going about their lives, having fun on the Friday night. He wiped a tear from his eye and that’s when he saw her.

‘Sayuri?’ he whispered under his breath, as he saw his wife sitting in the smoking shelter, lighting a cigarette. He couldn’t believe his eyes. His wife hated smoking, hated smokers, yet that was definitely her taking a deep drag on the cigarette she had in her mouth. Moreover, her long black hair had been cut into a bob and coloured a light brown, which was, again, something she’d never do. Mizuki rushed over to her.

‘Sayuri, where have you been?’ he babbled. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Oh, it’s you,’ his wife sniffed. She put the cigarette in her mouth, ‘What do you want?’

‘What do I….Sayuri, what’s happening? What’s going on with you?’

‘Piss off,’ she waved her hand dismissively, her lips snarling. But then she broke into a big smile.

‘Who’s this bastard?’ came a voice from behind Mizuki. He turned around to see a young woman stood behind him. The woman had short blonde hair and was dressed in a slutty school uniform. She took a cigarette from her mouth and pointed at Mizuki.

‘Who's he, Mariko?’ the woman asked.

‘Who’s Mariko?’ Mizuki asked before being pushed roughly aside by his wife, who walked over and stood next to the blonde-haired woman. The two leaned in and gave each other a deep kiss. When they broke apart, Sayuri gave Mizuki a contemptuous stare.

‘It’s this bitch's husband, I think,’ she said, sneering. She paused and laughed. ‘Actually, it’s a good time to get rid of this.’

She slipped the wedding band off her finger and threw it at Mizuki’s feet. ‘You might want to keep that for if I ever let go of this body. Could’ve sold it, aren’t I nice?’

The blonde-haired girl snickered and pulled Sayuri away, ‘That’s your problem, Mariko, you’re always too kind to these people.’ Mizuki felt as though a truck had just hit him. With a trembling hand, he reached down for the discarded ring and picked it up. ‘What just happened…..’

Description

EDITED TO ADD TEXT OF CAPTION BELOW

It was a bright and sunny Sunday afternoon as Sayuri and Mizuki walked hand in hand through the busy streets of Tokyo. They’d just been to the cinema and were now on their way to Chiyoda to spend a peaceful afternoon in the park. As they were walking along, just as they were passing a busy intersection, Sayuri suddenly jerked her hand out of Mizuki’s.

Her husband looked at her, his eyes wide with surprise, ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

His wife, whose eyes were normally wide and caring, looked back at him with a narrowed scowl. She pointed across the intersection.

‘I’ve just seen my friend over there, I’ll be right back,’ she uncharacteristically snapped. Then, before Mizuki could say anything else, Sayuri darted over the intersection as the lights flashed and traffic resumed, Mizuki strained his eyes as he kept a view of his wife and he watched as she ran up to what looked like a high school girl. The two embraced and seemed to be excited as the two poked and prodded each other’s bodies, before leaning in for a deep kiss. Mizuki couldn’t believe his eyes. Why was his wife making out with a high school girl?

‘Oi oi,’ he shouted, his voice carrying over the traffic. Sayuri and the high schooler broke their making out and glanced over at him, then they ran away. Mizuki made a couple of attempts to rush across the road to see just what was going on, but the traffic was too heavy, and by the time the lights changed to red, his wife and the high school girl were long gone.

He tried calling her phone. No answer. As the daylight faded and night came, he tried calling her friends and family. They hadn’t spoken to her either. The next day came and went, and there was still no sign of Sayuri. Mizuki contemplated calling the police, but what could he say? That his wife was missing? She’d gone of her own accord, hadn’t she? That wouldn’t constitute as a missing persons case, would it? Another day passed. And another. Mizuki, unsure of what to do, carried on with his daily routine as best he could but all the time, he was fretting over where Sayuri had gotten to.

Eventually, Friday came, and Mizuki was dragged along to the weekly afterwork drinking session by his boss. The rest of the office were in a high mood, sales had been good, but Mizuki only looked at the door, never his fellow workers. After a couple of hours, Mizuki made the excuse of feeling ill and left the party and walked morosely through the streets. Everywhere he looked, he could see happy people, happy couples, going about their lives, having fun on the Friday night. He wiped a tear from his eye and that’s when he saw her.

‘Sayuri?’ he whispered under his breath, as he saw his wife sitting in the smoking shelter, lighting a cigarette. He couldn’t believe his eyes. His wife hated smoking, hated smokers, yet that was definitely her taking a deep drag on the cigarette she had in her mouth. Moreover, her long black hair had been cut into a bob and coloured a light brown, which was, again, something she’d never do. Mizuki rushed over to her.

‘Sayuri, where have you been?’ he babbled. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Oh, it’s you,’ his wife sniffed. She put the cigarette in her mouth, ‘What do you want?’

‘What do I….Sayuri, what’s happening? What’s going on with you?’

‘Piss off,’ she waved her hand dismissively, her lips snarling. But then she broke into a big smile.

‘Who’s this bastard?’ came a voice from behind Mizuki. He turned around to see a young woman stood behind him. The woman had short blonde hair and was dressed in a slutty school uniform. She took a cigarette from her mouth and pointed at Mizuki.

‘Who's he, Mariko?’ the woman asked.

‘Who’s Mariko?’ Mizuki asked before being pushed roughly aside by his wife, who walked over and stood next to the blonde-haired woman. The two leaned in and gave each other a deep kiss. When they broke apart, Sayuri gave Mizuki a contemptuous stare.

‘It’s this bitch's husband, I think,’ she said, sneering. She paused and laughed. ‘Actually, it’s a good time to get rid of this.’

She slipped the wedding band off her finger and threw it at Mizuki’s feet. ‘You might want to keep that for if I ever let go of this body. Could’ve sold it, aren’t I nice?’

The blonde-haired girl snickered and pulled Sayuri away, ‘That’s your problem, Mariko, you’re always too kind to these people.’ Mizuki felt as though a truck had just hit him. With a trembling hand, he reached down for the discarded ring and picked it up. ‘What just happened…..’