Episode 2: Good Work Today
The woman took my hand and led me to the living room.
Breakfast was laid out on the table.
White rice, miso soup, blanched spinach, tamagoyaki, grilled fish.
I almost never eat breakfast. I usually just down a vegetable juice or some Calorie Mate from the convenience store and call it done. Less a meal than a fuel top-up.
“Eh… what’s all this.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
“Oh, sorry for raiding your fridge. I made do with what you had.”
She gave a little laugh and shrugged.
It looked like she’d made it all from the almost-bare fridge and the fish and spinach I’d left forgotten in the freezer.
The sight of food I’d only ever had at my parents’ house made me stare without thinking.
I sat down and brought the miso soup to my lips, half-braced for disappointment. A warm waft of dashi floated up through my nose. A gentle umami spread across my tongue.
The tamagoyaki was the sweet kind, exactly how I like it. My chopsticks broke through it and it came apart in soft layers, releasing the faint fragrance of dashi. The grilled fish had crisp skin and flesh that flaked apart at the touch.
The white rice held its shape, each grain distinct, and with every bite came a faint sweetness.
What is this.
“…It’s good.”
A small sound escaped me. My cheeks relaxed.
My chopsticks started moving faster without my permission.
Honestly, when had I last eaten a meal like this? What made it so different from convenience store food?
Different from a high-end restaurant, too. Something in my chest went quietly, warmly soft.
Across from me, the woman rested both cheeks on her hands and narrowed her eyes with a satisfied smile. The corner of her mouth curled up with something like contentment.
This isn’t like me. I caught myself and covered my mouth with a hand, clearing my throat.
“You…”
“Yuno.”
“…Aren’t you going to eat?”
“I’m fine, I’m not hungry. Just watching you eat is enough for me.”
She said it with a slight pause, as though she’d thought about it.
But before she’d even finished, her stomach let out a clear grr.
Yuno blinked her perfectly round eyes, once and then again, and turned steadily red all the way to her ears. She quickly brought her hands together, murmured I think I’ll have some after all, and started eating with an air of trying to go unnoticed.
It was, for some reason, oddly endearing, and I looked away, dropping my gaze to my plate.
Anyway. I had a mountain of things to ask this woman.
I lined up the questions floating through my head like pieces of a puzzle.
There were too many unknowns.
I thought through how to extract information efficiently in the limited time we had.
Who are you.
How old are you.
What do you mean, you were thrown away.
What do you plan to do now.
And that business with my ear this morning — what was that.
The last one… well. It could wait.
“Hey.”
I spoke up, and Yuno looked over at me from under her lashes, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel’s as she chewed her rice.
Those big eyes turned toward me, small and curious.
“How old are you?”
I started there. If it came out that I was living with a minor, it would be a problem for the company, and for me personally. Depending on her answer, I was prepared to throw her out on the spot.
“Nineteen.”
At least she was an adult. I was relieved.
She looked a little younger than that, maybe because of her baby face, but I had no choice but to take her word for it.
I murmured “hm” and moved on to the next thing I wanted to know.
“What are you planning to do? Going forward.”
“Mm, haven’t really thought about it. I don’t have anywhere to live. I guess I’d go back to the same spot and wait for someone else to pick me up.”
Yuno gave a vague, easy smile.
No home, just like that? Why? Another mystery added to the pile.
I put my head in my hands at the breezy expression on her face, not a trace of gravity in it.
The image of Yuno getting rained on last night flashed through my mind, small as a stray cat.
Would she really go back to that, waiting for someone to come along?
Unexpectedly, a quiet ache moved through my chest, and I said:
“…You can stay. Until you find somewhere.”
“Oh, but I can’t pay rent for somewhere like this.”
“I’m not expecting rent. Once you’ve found a new place, you leave.”
“Then… until I find a new job and get my first paycheck… is that okay?”
“Fine. Find one quickly.”
“Okay. Thank you. Then, instead of rent… I’ll cook for you.”
She paused, and gave me a slightly mischievous look.
“And… I’ll tidy up too.”
There was something pointed in that little smile, and it irritated me for reasons I couldn’t quite name. I gave her a light glare.
And just like that, through the strangest of circumstances, I found myself temporarily “keeping” a mysterious woman.
I still had a mountain of things to ask.
But I had no time, so I had no choice but to head to work.
Leaving someone I knew nothing about alone in my apartment genuinely unsettled me, so I had her come outside with me.
I held out two thousand yen without fanfare, and Yuno looked up quickly and tilted her head.
“…It’s not like it’s a thank-you. Or anything.”
Even I could hear how awkward that sounded.
Yuno gave a soft laugh and said “Thank you” as she took it.
When we stepped out into the corridor, Yuno gave a little wave. “Do your best today.”
Somehow, just that made my feet feel a little lighter.
＊＊＊
When I got to the office, the atmosphere was taut.
With three resignations this month, every face was stiff from the moment the day began.
“You haven’t finished the proposal materials yet?” “Hanaki’s handover should come first.” The voices of two employees, Inukai and Saruwatari, carried across the quiet office.
Matsuyama glanced over at me.
The look on her face said: please stop them.
I started to get up. But my feet wouldn’t move.
Right at that moment my phone rang, a client call, and I walked out of the room like I was fleeing.
A president with real leadership would’ve let the phone ring and stepped in between them. I know it myself.
It’s a cold thing to do.
But it was the only thing I could think of.
＊＊＊
On the way home. My shoulders felt uncommonly heavy.
When I reached the building, Yuno was sitting by the entrance in a worn-out T-shirt with my hoodie pulled over it, a supermarket bag in her hands.
She spotted me and her face lit up, and she gave a small wave.
The moment we were back in the apartment, Yuno rolled up her sleeves and started cooking.
I sat on the sofa and scrolled through the day’s news on my phone.
I glanced over at her now and then — she was fast. The knife moved with practiced ease; she gave the pot a shake; she tasted and tilted her head slightly.
Less than thirty minutes and the food was on the table.
Steam rising, a good smell filling the room. I picked up my chopsticks, and the flavors were fully absorbed, deep all the way through, and something in the core of me came slowly undone.
My cheeks relaxed before I knew it. I let out a quiet breath.
Tonight Yuno ate too.
“Do you cook a lot?”
“Yeah. I’ve basically been on my own since middle school, so I got pretty good at it.”
She finished the last of her rice and smiled.
There it was again — something striking delivered like it was perfectly ordinary.
I wanted to ask more, but couldn’t make myself, and just gave a small nod and drank my tea. The warm liquid moved slowly down my throat.
The list of questions I had about this woman kept getting longer. It was honestly a problem.
…My shoulders were stiff, though, now that I thought about it.
Probably the mental strain of the afternoon too. I rolled them with a crack.
Yuno was watching. She stood up without a word and came around behind me.
“I’ll do your shoulders.”
She said it simply, then took hold of them and began to knead, slow and steady.
The temperature of her hands was just right, the pressure finding exactly the right spots.
It felt good.
Everything that had built up over the course of the day began, gradually, to loosen.
And then, close to my ear, a quiet voice.
“Good work today.”
From a distance where her lips almost grazed my ear. A high, sweet voice, half-breath.
Something in my chest went warm and soft. And yet, strangely, I shivered.