Episode 10: Shouting, and Cat Ears
Monday.
“President… I’m so sorry.”
The face of Matsuyama, who opened the door to the president’s office and came in, was the palest I had ever seen it.
A market analysis report Matsuyama had prepared contained numerical errors. The client had based decisions on that report, and as a result had sustained losses running into the millions.
That same day, I took Matsuyama with me to the client’s office.
We were shown into a meeting room, where their president was waiting with his arms folded and a sour look on his face.
We had barely finished exchanging business cards before I bowed my head.
“On this occasion, due to insufficient checking on our part, we have caused your company a great deal of trouble. We are truly, deeply sorry.”
A heavy silence fell.
“Is sorry really going to cover it?”
At first, he was quiet.
“Our executives acted on the strength of your report. Do you understand what came of that? Everything our people spent months building was gone in an instant.”
“…Truly, we——”
“Shut up and listen!!”
He cut off my attempt to continue. His anger, like a dam breaking, surged all at once.
“Have you calculated the losses?! How many of our staff gave up their days off to deal with this. How exhausted our people on the ground are, because of you. Do you have any idea!!!!”
His fist came down hard on the table. Beside me, Matsuyama’s shoulders jerked.
“Absolutely unbelievable. To do such pathetic work and then have the nerve to come and apologise. Most people would be too ashamed to show their faces. That’s the kind of nerve you have — that’s why you make mistakes like this.”
Ragged breathing continued. After a moment, the president slowly settled back deep into his chair. An unpleasant pause, like something shifting gear.
“…Where did you go to university?”
An abrupt question, directed at Matsuyama.
“…○○ University.”
Matsuyama’s voice trembled, just slightly.
“Ah,” said the president — quietly this time, slowly, with a laugh through his nose. Nothing like the shouting of moments before; a thick, adhesive kind of smile.
“Oh, is that right. I thought as much. That university where you just have to write your name to get in.”
His gaze moved over Matsuyama’s whole body, slow and deliberate.
“No wonder she can only do garbage work. Well, I suppose it was my mistake to expect anything from the start. Sending a fool like this as our account manager — it tells you all you need to know about the company’s calibre.”
Matsuyama’s ears were going red. I could see it.
“All chest and nothing upstairs. That type always does work like this. You must have known yourself, I’d imagine. That you weren’t up to it.”
I glanced sideways. Matsuyama’s lips were trembling faintly. Her eyes were slowly filling.
“If you’ll forgive me,”
Before I knew it, my mouth was moving.
“I’d like to ask you to retract what you just said.”
The president’s eyebrows rose. Eyes that had been appraising me turned in my direction.
“The fault in this matter is without question ours. I offer our sincerest apologies for that. However…”
A breath.
“We cannot accept that kind of abusive language directed at one of our valued employees. We will not be doing business with any company that sees fit to speak that way. You are welcome to end this relationship.”
The president’s expression changed.
“Excuse me? Who do you think you’re——”
“I should also mention that I have recorded what was just said to Matsuyama. How that recording is handled will be at our discretion.”
“Wh — ah——”
The president’s mouth opened and closed in a small voice. His colour drained visibly.
I gave a deep bow.
“Good day.”
I took Matsuyama’s arm gently and left the meeting room.
The moment we reached the corridor, Matsuyama’s shoulders began to shake, as if a dam had broken.
My own hands were trembling faintly too.
＊＊＊
Walking back to the station.
I glanced sideways to find Matsuyama walking with her head down, visibly deflated.
Face drained of colour. Biting her lip. Eyes red.
Then she dropped a quiet word.
“President… because of my mistake… I’m truly sorry…”
After a long sigh, she said:
“But… thank you. Hearing you call me a valued employee… I was glad.”
“It was nothing. Nothing to thank me for.”
I said it bluntly, turning my face away from Matsuyama.
“I think the truth is I’ve been dragging you down… I’ll take responsibility and… resign.”
The words came in pieces, wrung out.
“You don’t need to resign.”
Before I knew it, the words were out. Even I thought they were too brusque.
“What’s done is done and can’t be changed. The thing is to think about what to do next.”
Matsuyama shed a single tear, whispered I’m sorry quietly, and gave a small, slight nod. Nothing more.
At moments like this, I don’t know how to say the kind thing. I often try to comfort people and miss the mark entirely.
I really am hopeless, I think, at standing beside someone.
I stopped at the smoking area in front of the office and smoked one cigarette to settle myself. But the hand holding the cigarette wouldn’t stop shaking.
After that, I called all the staff together in the office and explained the situation.
When I finished speaking, deep sighs escaped from around the room. The atmosphere that had already been drawn taut and tense grew heavier still.
Resignations mounting, the failed funding, a major client relationship terminated.
Some of it is my own doing, but even so — how can so many things go wrong at once.
The feeling of sinking slowly, steadily, into bottomless quicksand.
＊＊＊
Nine o’clock at night.
I stuffed the tasks I hadn’t managed to finish into my laptop bag and left the office.
I didn’t notice I was hungry until I stepped off the elevator in the building.
I walked the corridor, unlocked the auto-lock with my key.
Click.
The moment I opened the door, a warm orange glow spilled in, and a faint drift of dashi floated past my nose.
The gentle, settled smell of simmered food — kombu and soy sauce softly blended together.
Something vaguely nostalgic in that smell, and without quite knowing why, the tension in my shoulders eased.
“Mm, welcome home. Big sis.”
A face popped up from behind the sofa.
Yuno. She’d apparently been lying down on it.
She came trotting over to me in small quick steps as I was taking off my coat. My hands stopped without thinking at the sight of her.
The cat-ear roomwear — the one we’d chosen together at the department store that day.
Hood pulled all the way up, and slightly too large for slight Yuno, everything a little loose and baggy on her. From the hem of the shorts, white, slender legs peeked out.
Quite without meaning to, something in my chest gave a warm ache, and before I’d noticed, my hand had reached out.
Through the hood, I took the cat ears gently between my fingers. A soft, fluffy texture seeped slowly into my fingertips.
“…What are you doing, big sis.”
Yuno tilted her head and looked up at me.
Eyes narrowed slightly, a teasing edge to it.
“Nothing.”
But I didn’t let go. I kept gently squeezing the cat ears between my fingers. In silence.
Somehow, I could feel the warmth seeping into my chest.
“Pfft… ahaha.”
Whether it was the sight of me that did it, Yuno burst out laughing and her face crinkled up.
“What.”
“Just — you’ve got this deadly serious scary face, and you’re just standing there groping my cat ears. You really are a strange one, big sis.”
“…Was my face that scary?”
“Yeah, super scary. You had this massive frown and your mouth was like this.”
She demonstrated my expression as she said it.
If that’s really what I looked like, it is pretty bad, I’ll admit.
I scowled and glared at her, and Yuno laughed again, bright and free.
Looking at that guileless smile, I felt the murk that had been sitting in my chest all day flow quietly out of me.