Episode 18: An Afternoon I Can’t Concentrate In
Monday.
In the president’s office, afternoon light slanting in, I sat facing the monitor.
Lately, small numbers had started going blurry on me. I didn’t want to admit it, but I assumed it was my age.
I put on the prescription computer glasses I’d reluctantly had made, and looked over the third-quarter data. Competitor market share, our own CPA, the movement in LTV. Tracking the numbers, working out the next move.
A knock at the door.
“Excuse me, cleaning service.”
The voice and height told me it was a woman.
Before I could answer, a small cleaner in a grey jumpsuit stepped quietly inside, pulling a cart. A cap pulled low, a mask hiding the lower half of her face.
She started cleaning methodically from one end of the room, working her way through. Efficient hands.
I turned my eyes back to the screen and kept typing.
Focus on the data. Where was the conversion rate dropping. Top of the funnel, or mid.
I crossed my arms and worked through a hypothesis.
Then the phone rang. Inoue, out at a client meeting.
“Yes, Seto here.”
“President, about next month’s promotion budget — the agency’s saying the ROAS target isn’t realistic—”
“They’re conflating engagement rate with conversion. If the impression cost drops but it doesn’t reach the bottom of the funnel, it doesn’t matter. Have the agency confirm. Get the segment-level CVR first, then we’ll rebuild the budget. Bring it to me by end of week.”
“…Understood.”
“Thanks.”
I ended the call having only covered what was necessary. Less than twenty seconds. Adjusted my glasses, went back to the data.
“Sorry, the bin by your feet——”
“Hm? Oh, sure.”
I pulled my chair back slightly. The cleaner crouched down, reaching for the bin.
Without really meaning to, I glanced in that direction.
Under the brim of the cap, our eyes met.
Long lashes. Startlingly large eyes, a bright brown. Something in them I recognised.
— Eh.
My heart did something strange.
“…Hold on a second.”
My voice came out lower than I’d expected.
“Wait, Yuno? Why are you——”
The cleaner — Yuno — slowly slid her mask down to her chin. The corner of her mouth lifted, and she stuck her tongue out, just slightly. Looking up at me, grinning, mischievous.
Then she pulled the mask back up over her nose and returned to cleaning in silence, as if nothing had happened. Changed the bin bag, set the bin back in place.
“I was looking for a cleaning job. I like cleaning. And then I found this building was hiring.”
Yuno narrowed her eyes and added, as if for good measure, “It’s really just a coincidence.”
I just said “is that so” and put my fingers back on the keyboard. Pushed my glasses up with a quick motion.
I tried to act unbothered, but my heart was making noise.
I was looking at the numbers on the screen, but none of it was going in. Yuno kept moving quietly around the room. The sound of a shelf being wiped down, the sense of her tidying near the window. I could tell that path was, gradually, coming closer to me.
I found myself tracking her movement without meaning to.
Having apparently finished the bulk of the cleaning, Yuno pulled off her disposable gloves and dropped them into the cart’s bin bag.
After that, I felt warmth against my back, out of nowhere.
And then, softly, Yuno’s chin came to rest on my right shoulder. Her face right there, close enough that I could hear her breathing.
Yuno’s hand settled gently over my right hand on the mouse. Slender, white fingers resting on top of mine.
“Hey, big sis?”
A small whisper, right at my ear.
“You’re cool when you’re working, you know.”
A shiver ran down my back. From the nape of my neck all the way to my waist.
“Wh — what. That’s enough. Get out once you’re done.”
“Can’t I just watch a little longer? Up close?”
I could feel her gaze at this distance.
My eyes drifted toward her despite myself. Downcast, glossy eyes came into view, and my chest throbbed, almost painfully.
Yuno’s index finger slowly traced each of my fingers on the mouse, one at a time.
From the base of my index finger to the tip, then from the tip of my middle finger to its base.
Careful, deliberately slow, drawing it out.
“…!”
From between my fingers, to the back of my hand, at a distance that was barely touching at all, she traced softly.
Along the veins showing faintly on the back of my hand, she stroked with the gentlest graze of her nail.
Every time Yuno’s fingers moved with that skill, a current seemed to run through me, and my whole body shivered.
“…Nnh.”
A sound slipped out before I could stop it.
“Ahah, you made a sound.”
“Stop. That’s enough, seriously.”
“Seeing big sis in perfect president mode just made me want to tease you a little.”
There it is, again. Teasing someone older like this, with absolutely no sign of remorse.
Still looking up at me from below, enjoying my reaction.
I straightened my glasses and glared at her.
“If you keep doing things like this, I’m reporting it to your employer.”
“Scaaary. Okay, okay.”
Yuno pulled back, easy about it. Picking up the cart, heading for the door, she said without turning around:
“Excuse me for the intrusion~”
Click.
The door closed quietly.
— What was that.
Quiet returned to the office. Only the monitor glowing white, data lined up, inert.
My heart was still pounding. Something deep in my body was shivering, throbbing, refusing to settle.
The warmth on my back was still there. I felt like that voice at my ear was still there too.
I took off my glasses and closed my eyes. My brow furrowed without my permission.
What had just happened.
And then, the kiss from the other night. Yuno’s face that night, crying like an abandoned cat, pitiful. The indecent look on her face when she kissed like she was devouring something.
No good…
I’m thinking about it again.
Lately this had been happening more.
Probably since that night — the night Yuno cried.
In the middle of work, out of nowhere, Yuno comes to mind.
By the time I notice, I’m already remembering her. Thinking what am I doing, at my age — and still unable to stop.
Yuno is encroaching into me, I think. Steadily. Surely.
Does that girl know what she’s doing? Or is she entirely unaware of it?
I had to get the materials ready for the three o’clock meeting. This is bad — it’s already one, and I’m not even halfway done.
I put my glasses back on and turned to the monitor, rows of numbers and graphs lined up.
Let out one breath, and set my fingers on the keyboard.
I needed to concentrate. And yet my heart wouldn’t settle, not once.