The Algorithm of Spring

14

The seating chart glowed on a digital display, couples' names connected by delicate animated lines. The singles, mostly women her age or older, sat scattered around the edges. 

As she walked to her assigned seat, fragments of conversation drifted past.

"Did you update your family goals?"

"My daughter's match percentage doubled after her adjustments. She loves the app."

"The sponsorship makes such a difference. No wonder everyone's using it now."

A young couple ahead posed for selfies, their matching device cases glinting in the light. Their movements fell in sync as they adjusted the angles.

The traditional wedding chest stood near the altar, lacquered wood gleaming beneath spotlights. Maya smiled despite herself, remembering how Min-ji had practiced catching chestnuts in her hanbok skirt as a child, dreaming of this day. Now they would record and analyse that childhood game, adding another data point to the endless stream of metrics.

She sank into her seat. The empty chairs beside her seemed to wait with her, as if hoping someone might claim them. The ceremony would start soon. She spotted Min-ji's father again, proud tears in his eyes as he spoke with the groom's parents. The sponsored wedding had lifted a weight from his shoulders—one less thing to worry about in a world of rising costs and falling birth rates.

Another chime. She didn't check. Around her, guests smiled instinctively at their screens, as if responding to a cue.

The glow of so many notifications lit up their faces, a synchronised display of approval. Like a mass wedding vow, recited without question.

Each one a reminder of how deeply the app had embedded itself—offering solutions to problems no one had known they had.

As the hall lights dimmed, Maya fidgeted in her velvet seat. Among the guests, chatter faded to whispers, devices lowered - though not put away. A delicate, traditional wedding march started playing.

Min-ji stepped into view, and Maya's pessimism crumbled—just for a moment, she forgot her unease. Her ivory silk hanbok, catching the light, highlighted her cousin's beauty. Maya saw a flash of the girl she once knew, hidden beneath the sophisticated facade—in the bitten lip, the trembling hands.

Ancient rhythms guided the ceremony. The mothers carried candles; the couple bowed deeply, voices steady through their vows. 

Then came the chestnuts. Min-ji's face lit up as she spread her skirt, that childhood joy breaking through her composure. One, two, three chestnuts landed. Each catch met with delighted gasps. The fourth bounced off her skirt's edge, and Min-ji giggled—a sound Maya hadn't heard in years. For a moment, the modern world fell away, leaving just her cousin's innocence, playing the same game she'd practiced in childhood.

"Four chestnuts equals four children!" an aunt whispered. "How perfect!"

"They'll be beautiful babies..."

The exchange of rings had triggered another HarmoniQ chime, louder this time. Guests cooed at the 'cute' touch. Maya watched as all the guests' screens lit up in sequence, like digital applause.

Maya clenched her hands in her lap. This moment—ancient, intimate—reduced to marketing. But around her, faces glowed with joy, devices raised to capture every detail. She was alone in her discomfort.

Another voice carried over from a nearby table:
"Their match may have begun in the digital realm, but their love has proven real..."

Maya caught Min-ji's mother dabbing her eyes, proud tears falling. At the edge of the crowd, a photographer raised his camera, capturing every tender expression. More images for the algorithm to parade.

But Maya had seen Min-ji's genuine smile during the ceremony. She held onto that moment, even as the HarmoniQ chimes continued their gentle invasion of the sacred space.