Episode Fifty-Eight

“I want that kind of future.”

Having said that, Ibara fixed her gaze upon my eyes.

“Don’t you want it, Shigure-san?”

“…I…”

I did want it.
That was my genuine, unadulterated truth.
Even I cringed at it, but it seemed I did desire such a future.
But.
I simply couldn’t bring myself to voice it.
　I already knew why.
Because I didn’t know if I could handle such overwhelming affection.
Because I couldn’t stand tall and declare I was worthy of it.
In short, I lacked confidence.

“I see…”

Seeing me unable to respond, Ibara gave a faint smile.

“I’m sorry. I was too eager.”

“Ibara—”

“I’m going to cool my head off. I’ll take a bath.”

With that, Ibara left the bedroom.
Left alone in the room, I stood before the dressing table.

“Hey, Ame.”

In the mirror.
I addressed myself, dressed in my high school uniform.

“If I were really a high school student now, the same age as Ibara, do you think I would hesitate?”

　Of course, the reflection in the mirror offered no reply.

When Ibara returned from the bath a little while later, she was her usual self, as if the earlier scene had never happened.

†

I entered the new week still carrying a foggy unease, like an unbroken rain cloud.
As if work and private life were linked by invisible gears, progress on the rough draft for that ‘Cendrillon’ piece wasn’t moving forward.
The main illustration was more or less decided.
　A close-up illustration of Hiname-chan lathering her hair.
The product logo would remain unchanged from the standard version.
The back would feature the product description, leaving the sides.
Cinderella-themed items would be drawn on both sides in the same style as the front.
It wasn’t bad.
It wasn’t bad, but it felt like it was just missing something.
The client seemed reasonably pleased, and we could start finalising the details as is.
Hmm.

　Then, some welcome news arrived.
Senior designer Yamauchi-san was returning.
Yamauchi-san had been on leave since late last year, but following surgery, she’d made a full recovery.
No lingering effects whatsoever. At the morning meeting, she declared, “I’ll be back in full swing!” Strong.
After that, Yamauchi-san came straight to see me.

“I saw the ‘Rêve’ design on social media.”

“Eh, really⁉︎”

“Really, really. It was brilliant. Thanks.”

“No, no, no, the base was your design. I just added the illustrations.”

“Don’t be modest! That’s Amami’s work. It took a while, but well done.”

With that, Yamauchi-san strode smartly back to her desk.
Senior designers are so cool.
　That evening, to celebrate Yamauchi-san’s return, a welcome-back gathering was held by volunteers from the Design Department.
Since I’m indebted to her, naturally I attended too.
Yamauchi-san played it safe with non-alcoholic drinks, but her personality meant the atmosphere was incredibly lively (I stuck to one glass of cider and then switched to oolong tea. Humans are creatures that learn).
　At one point, the conversation drifted from “How have you been lately?” to everyone confiding their worries.
Taking advantage of Momono-chan standing up to rant about how her favourite idol was her favourite idol and nothing else, I moved to sit next to Yamauchi-san.

“Oh, Amami’s here. What’s up? Fancy a drink with your big sis?”

“Er… yes. Well, sort of. Oh, congratulations on your discharge.”

Yamauchi-san waved her hand dismissively. As if to say, no need to elaborate.
She offered me her half-empty glass, so I clinked mine against hers.

“So, what is it? Work troubles?”

“Eh?”

Caught out, I froze.
Ahaha, Yamauchi-san laughed.

“Spot on, eh?”

“Sorry. I’m a bit stuck on the current project.”

“Well, if it’s Amami, you’ll manage somehow, won’t you?”

Saying it casually, Yamauchi-san reached for the chilled tomatoes with her chopsticks.

“Before you returned, I had a meeting with Shindo-kun and we talked about you. That’s when I heard about the ‘Rêve’ project too. Honestly, I thought that project was doomed, so I was surprised.”

“Eh, r-really?”

“As the talks progressed, the client’s representative kept looking like they were thinking ‘Is this really okay?’”

“…Now that you mention it?”

“There’s no right answer in our line of work, after all.”

　Yamauchi-san took a sip of her ginger ale.

“Some jobs get praised for reasons you can’t fathom, while others – rough drafts you poured your heart into – get rejected outright. It happens all the time.”

“Outright? Even for you, Yamauchi-san?”

“Of course. Like getting rejected five times in a row and having your client assigned to someone else.”

“I understand.”

“You shouldn’t understand.”

　Yamauchi-san chuckled. Well, true enough.
But I get it.

“You lose confidence, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you do in times like that, Yamauchi-san?”

“Two gin and tonics at my regular bar.”

Oh.

“Wait, isn’t that a bit too cool?”

“It is. I’m putting on airs. Putting on airs, getting drunk on myself, and then convincing myself. That I’m a capable person.”

“I-I see.”

Impressive… I suppose?

“Isn’t that how everyone is? Deep down, we have no confidence, but we tell ourselves ‘it’ll be alright’, cast a little magic on ourselves, and somehow manage to hold on.”

“So gin and tonic is your magic, Yamauchi-san?”

“Exactly.”

　A dimple appeared at the corner of Yamauchi-san’s mouth.
This woman, a good bit older than me, has a truly beautiful smile.

“Well, then, I suppose my husband’s sleeping face is another one.”

“Thank you for the meal.”

Yamauchi-san is actually newlywed.

“Do you have any? That sort of magic, Amami?”

Asked this, I gave an ambiguous smile and dodged the question.
　Is it somewhere? That kind of magic. For me too? Or have I just not noticed?

“But it was kind of surprising. Even someone like you gets down and drinks, Yamauchi-san?”

“Oh, absolutely. All the time. I’m just putting on a front in front of juniors. I’ve even gotten horribly drunk in public and had my husband come and pick me up.”

She laughed heartily.
I didn’t think it was pathetic or embarrassing.
　Rather, I felt relieved.
I’d only ever seen her furiously red-lining my designs or speaking boldly in meetings. This was who she really was?
I hadn’t known.

──Ah.

Just now. Something.
Something important.

“──Yamauchi-san!”

“Whoa, what is it, Amami?”

“I’m heading back to the office! Sorry, I’ll slip out now!”

　Yamauchi blinked.
Then she grinned.

“…Corporate slave!”

“I’m a designer!”

Shindo-san waved with a sour expression, saying “Fine.”
I slipped on my pumps and dashed back to the office in the night.
Perhaps it was thanks to the alcohol in that glass of Cassis Orange.
The biting February night wind didn’t feel cold at all.