Episode 24: A Last-Ditch Effort
“Matsuyama-san.”
I — Matsuyama Maho — was working through tallying figures in the office when Yuuki-san, at the desk behind me, called out.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Could you go check with the president whether this proposal material is alright?”
“Eh… me?”
“Come on, you’re on good terms with the president, aren’t you? Lately whenever I talk to her it turns into an argument. So I’d rather keep that to a minimum.”
Why me, I think.
I’ve always had this kind of thing pushed onto me. Maybe I just look like someone who can’t say no.
My daily tasks alone are already piled high, and now more work on top of it.
Well… talking with the president isn’t actually that hard for me.
She has this sharp, hard-to-approach air about her, but underneath, I think she’s a kind person. Her smile, when it happens, is surprisingly gentle.
That gap gets me, sometimes. A little flutter.
I took the binder Yuuki-san had handed me and headed for the president’s office.
Just as I was about to turn the corner in the corridor —
“…What a coincidence. I was genuinely shocked.”
A voice drifted over from the direction of the break room. Hushed, the way you’d speak if you didn’t want to be overheard.
Oh, that’s Saeko-san.
A beautiful woman, sharp almond eyes, always perfectly put together in a dark grey suit. Frighteningly competent at her job and yet easygoing with everyone — I always wonder if this person has a single flaw.
I was about to walk past — and my feet stopped.
There was someone else, facing Saeko-san.
Someone in a work uniform. A cleaner, maybe?
Standing close, talking in low voices.
…Wait, is that… Yuno-san?
The one, the president’s…
In the president’s office, ki— doing that kind of thing.
The memory of that moment flashed back unbidden, and my face went hot on its own.
There was nothing I had to feel guilty about, and yet my body retreated, on its own, into the shadow of the corner.
I hadn’t meant to listen, but the conversation reached my ears anyway.
I knew I should walk away. My feet wouldn’t move.
“So… Yuno, I really am sorry about that time.”
“It’s way too late for that now. …Way too late.”
“At the time I was struggling with work too, and I think I’d had too much to drink, or something like that…”
Saeko-san’s words came in halting pieces. A completely different voice from her usual smooth way of talking — flustered, uncertain.
Wait, what is this about.
“Hey, won’t you come back? The apartment — it’s still exactly the way it was when you were there. I never changed it.”
“…………”
“I really am sorry I hurt you back then. Let’s live together again, okay?”
Saeko-san said it to Yuno-san in a gentle voice.
After a long silence, Yuno-san’s voice dropped out, quiet.
“…I can’t anymore. I don’t trust you, Saeko.”
“I’ll never do that again. I genuinely regret it. …Just once more, please trust me.”
Silence.
Carefully, I peeked around the corner —
Saeko-san had pulled Yuno-san into a tight embrace.
Yuno-san stood frozen, as if at a loss.
“Stop it…”
Eventually, Yuno-san pushed her away.
“I’ll keep waiting for your feelings to change, Yuno. Let’s talk again?”
“…That’s a cruel thing to say.”
“Yuno… please.”
A short pause, and then Yuno-san broke into a run.
Oh no, she’s coming this way. I shrank back against the wall on instinct.
Yuno-san ran straight past without even glancing at me, footsteps loud, and disappeared.
The one glimpse I caught of her profile — her eyes were red, and she looked like she might start crying at any moment.
＊＊＊
Friday night.
In a back booth at an izakaya, I told the president everything I’d seen and heard, exactly as it happened.
The president was quiet for a while.
“…Ah. I see.”
Just that, small.
She took a cigarette from her bag and put it to her lips. Her fingers pressing the lighter’s flint — no matter how many times she tried, it wouldn’t catch.
Click. Click. Each failed spark seemed to fray her composure a little further. When the small flame finally caught and she drew the smoke in, her mouth, and the hand resting on the table, were both faintly trembling.
The president almost never shows what she’s feeling.
So I couldn’t read anything from her expression — but seeing that trembling hand, something pricked at my chest.
And at the same time — I caught myself thinking, looking at her, that her face, gazing off into the distance like that, was beautiful.
Maybe I shouldn’t have told her about Yuno-san.
If she’d stayed in the dark, maybe she could have avoided being hurt.
Thinking that, and yet — the reason I told her might have had some other feeling mixed in too.
Expectation. A word too frightening to apply to myself, so I can’t quite let myself think it through properly.
Everything about Yuno-san and Saeko-san —
everything I told the president was true.
— But there’s one thing I haven’t told her.
I think I’m a coward.
Maybe this is my own kind of “last-ditch effort.”
As a businessperson, failing to give a complete report is unacceptable.
And even so — that one thing — I simply couldn’t bring myself to tell her.