Episode Sixty-Eight
Valentine’s Day itself, at 19:20, just before closing time.
“Eh?!?!?!”
With a voice that could have had about five exclamation marks attached, Momono-chan, holding her smartphone, cried out.
“Yes, I’m terribly sorry, it’s our mistake… Yes, we’ll send the corrected data immediately… Yes, today, yes, right, goodbye…”
The content sounded far too unsettling for comfort, and everyone, myself included, turned to Momono-chan with a “What’s wrong?” look.
“Apparently, there was a typo in the design we delivered this morning…”
Momono-chan said, her face ashen, almost as if confessing a sin.
Manager Shindo-san rose from his seat.
“That sweets thing?”
“Yes… It seems the ‘u’ in the logo was printed as ‘a’ in both places…”
Momono-chan pointed at the computer display.
Shindo-san peered over her shoulder and groaned, “Ahh…”
I and the others groaned, “Ahh…” too.
Spelling mistakes are par for the course in design. Everyone has one or two bitter memories of them.
Naturally, we check things multiple times to prevent them, but they keep cropping up from nowhere, no matter how many times we stamp them out, adding to our overtime.
“Typos are just one of those things.”
“Don’t worry about it. It happens to everyone.”
The senior members offered their consolation, but Momono-chan remained glum.
Shindo-san placed a hand on his neck.
“Sorry, I missed it in my checks too. We can reflect on it later. For now, let’s just recover. It was due today, and this much should still make it on time, right?”
Well, that’s true. We can still manage it now, so we should.
We can’t inconvenience the client because of our mistake.
But…
Momono-chan glanced once at the clock on the wall, exhaled very softly, and declared clearly,
“Yes, it’s fine. I’ll resubmit it today.”
she declared clearly.
“I’m still here today too, so show me when it’s done.”
“Understood.”
Momono-chan pulled out her chair and launched the editing software.
Logo correction. Not a huge task, but it was quite an intricate design, so it would probably take about three hours for two spots.
Momono-chan had mentioned going to the ‘Charles’ live show today.
She probably wouldn’t make it in time for the start. Considering the commute, arriving partway through would be tough too.
“Um, Momono-chan…”
“It’s alright.”
Before I could say anything else, Momono-chan forced a smile.
“It’s my mistake. I’ll fix it properly before I go.”
Go – stay. She’d decided she wouldn’t make it in time.
Fixing her own mistakes herself. That sense of responsibility felt right for a working adult, and perhaps it wasn’t good to coddle her here.
But.
But, you know.
Hiname-chan’s profile flashed through my mind.
She’d said she wanted those who bought tickets to enjoy themselves.
And Momono-chan is a lovely junior. I want to let her go cheer Hiname-chan on.
So, before I knew it, the words slipped out.
“I’ll help.”
“Eh?”
“Send me the data. I’ll fix one section. If we work together, we’ll definitely make it in time.”
“…S-senpaiiiii…”
Tears streamed from both mascara-coated eyes with a bubbling sound.
“Waaah, I love you, Senpai! Marry me! I’ll cook dinner every night!”
“I won’t. Now, let’s get started.”
“I’ll follow you forever!”
“I said, stop that.”
We each corrected the submission data, merged it, and finalised it. Probably took about two hours.
Then dash to the shopping mall. If I hurried, I should make it. Probably. Maybe…
†
And then, three hours later.
I was at home, facing Ibara.
What Ibara offered me was a twelve-piece chocolate assortment. Probably an expensive one.
As for me, on the other hand…
“Hmm.”
Ibara reached into the plastic bag and pulled out a small, flat box.
“Alfort Mini.”
She reached in again, grabbed something like pulling a prize from a claw machine, and pulled it out.
“Takenoko-no-Sato.”
Once more.
“ChocoAb bread.”
I cleared my throat with a “cough”.
“You can have whichever one you like.”
“Hmm.”
Terrifying.
They say a beautiful person’s blank expression is frightening, but a younger high schooler’s is just as scary. All the more so because I’m the one in the wrong.
With eyes that gave absolutely nothing away, Ibara looked at me..
“A box of obligatory chocolates?”
“Sorry, that’s not it.”
“Black Thunder?”
“It really isn’t.”
“Right.”
See? That’s why she’s scary.
“Well, you see… there’s a reason for this.”
I tried my best. I think I did.
As soon as Shindo-san’s inspection ended, I bolted out of the company and dashed straight to the shopping mall. And just barely, right before closing time, I didn’t make it.
As a result, the only chocolates I could get were from the convenience store’s confectionery section.
I figured I’d at least try to win with quantity, so I bought up every chocolate snack I could find.
“So you couldn’t buy chocolates because you were helping a junior colleague?”
“Yes.”
“Is that person cute?”
“Yes… yes?”
“She is cute. Haa, this is why, Shigure-san…”
“Ibara, are you angry?”
When I asked timidly, Ibara let out a soft chuckle.
Her expression broke, softening into a gentle smile.
“No, I’m not angry.”
“But honestly, even I think this is a bit much…”
I looked at the chocolate confectionery lined up before me.
Not that they aren’t all delicious.
The luxurious Alfort has the perfect harmony of crisp biscuit and chocolate, the Black Thunder has an interesting crunchy texture, and the ChocoAb bread has a fun, old-school sweet vibe. Takenoko-no-Sato is divine.
But, well, it’s just…
As chocolates to give to a lover?
Yet Ibara says it as if she genuinely doesn’t care.
“Well, that person’s a fan of Hiname, right? So they couldn’t possibly get angry.”
“But—”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Let’s eat the chocolate instead… Ah.”
The last item to emerge from the carrier bag was “Rêve”.
For us, it was a special chocolate.
The illustration of the princess on the packaging was drawn by me, modelled on Ibara.
“Shigure-san, you bought it again.”
“…Well.”
Ever since it hit the market, I’d been buying this memorable chocolate regularly.
“Because it’s delicious.”
“And the girl on the packaging is cute?”
“Self-praise…”
“Which one is it?”
“Eh? Hmm… Which one, I wonder?”
It might be both.
“Hehe. Come on, let’s eat. Shall we finish them all?”
“No, you mustn’t. Just have one.”
“Aye, Mum.”
“Stop that, I said!”
Ibara’s thumb pressed down on the perforated line of the flat box.
The satisfying crackle of the cardboard splitting apart filled the air.
Did she truly mean it when she said she didn’t mind?
I didn’t think it was a lie. Ibara would never lie to me.
But just because it wasn’t a lie didn’t mean it was one hundred percent truth.
“I’ll do better for White Day, alright?”
“I’ll be expecting it.”
Picking up a milk chocolate with her fingertip, Ibara made a mischievous face.
“I’d rather have a macaron.”
“Do you like them?”
At my question, she blinked rapidly.
“Shigure-san, you really ought to study a bit more.”
With that, she popped the chocolate into her mouth.
That was what happened one night, a month ago.