Episode Seventy-Six: Hold Me Properly, More
Mid-September now, a Monday afternoon. The sound of keyboard typing echoing through the president’s office suddenly went quiet, and Yui-san let out a deep sigh, then stretched out what must have been a stiff, aching body.
Lately, I feel like Yui-san’s sighs have gotten more frequent.
There’s a real reason behind it, too — early next month, the “Group Joint President’s Meeting” is coming up. Once a quarter, every president under the Ichinose Group reports business performance to the president of the parent company, Ichinose Holdings — meaning, Yui-san’s father. An important meeting.
Since this morning, Yui-san had been buried in preparing materials for it.
Hunched over her laptop, occasionally stopping to sit and think, clearly working through something — I could tell, vaguely, that she’d hit some kind of wall.
The large-scale resort hotel that opened this summer had been a huge success too, and the company’s performance was strong. At this rate, the three-year mid-term management plan Yui-san had set out when she took office looked set to hit its target — revenue and profit both growing this fiscal year, right on schedule.
Even so, the fact that strong performance alone doesn’t let her feel optimistic says a lot about just how demanding the standards at this “president’s meeting” actually are.
Just imagining it made my stomach hurt a little. Since Yui-san took office as the youngest president in the company’s history, our company apparently draws a fair amount of attention from the other companies within the Group too.
Delivering solid results is a good thing, of course, but the pressure that comes with it must be immeasurable.
“…I’m going to head over to Yuki-nii’s company for a bit. He said he’s free this afternoon, so I want to talk through the materials for next month’s president’s meeting.”
Standing, unhurried, she pulled on the dark grey jacket hanging on the rack, and let out another deep sigh.
“Understood. Please take care on the way.”
I stood from my desk to see her off. Our eyes met, and Yui-san smiled, gentle, and pulled my waist in close with one arm.
“Yeah. I’ll be back by five.”
I accepted the light, gentle kiss. Taking advantage of being alone together, Yui-san always touches me like this.
The president’s office is one thing, but she does it in the elevator too, in conference rooms, places where it’s honestly a little concerning — completely unbothered — and it always leaves my heart racing.
At first, I’d been anxious, worried someone might see. But in the president’s office, at least — there’s basically no chance of anyone just walking in — so somewhere along the way, I’d simply come to accept it.
Reluctant, gently releasing my body, Yui-san smiled, happy.
“Alright, I’m off.”
Seeing her out of the president’s office with a “take care,” I let out a small sigh of my own too, once she’d gone.
Yui-san’s birthday is coming up next month. And yet, I still hadn’t managed to ask her who she’s planning to spend it with.
Back in college, once a month, Yui-san used to go to a “dinner” with her father and Kitagami-san. But watching Yui-san now, there’s no sign at all that she’s still meeting with Kitagami-san.
She’s not a student anymore, and she’s well past the age where her father would need to arrange meetings with a man on her behalf — so maybe those “dinners” have simply stopped happening.
But the morning after we’d spent that night together, despite it being a holiday, a call had come in for Yui-san from Kitagami-san.
In the end, after that, Yui-san never once returned the call in front of me, so I never asked about it either.
Saying it doesn’t bother me at all would be a lie. But there’s one thing I absolutely didn’t want to do — pile on questions, add more pressure, to someone already working this hard for my sake.
It’s fine. I trust Yui-san.
Maybe I’ll brew some tea, take a small breather. Just as I thought that and started to rise from my desk, I noticed the phone’s red light blinking.
An internal call from reception. I reached over and picked up the receiver.
“Good afternoon. This is Aozawa, secretary.”
“This is Wada at reception. There’s a visitor here for the president right now…”
Hearing “visitor,” I froze, startled. I manage every bit of Yui-san’s schedule. There shouldn’t have been any appointment for this afternoon. Had I missed something?
Wedging the receiver between my shoulder and ear, I double-checked the schedule on my computer. But there really was nothing on the calendar for this afternoon. A cold-call sales visit, maybe?
“Could you let them know we can’t accept visitors without an appointment?”
“That’s the thing… he said if I gave his name, you’d understand. A man named Kitagami, from Ichinose Holdings.”
Hearing that name, something crawled, unpleasant, across my skin. The hand holding the receiver trembled, faint.
Calm down. Telling myself that, I drew a slow, deep breath.
No appointment or not… I couldn’t turn him away. There was no way I could turn him away. Because Kitagami-san is an employee of the parent company. Attached directly to the president, no less. One of Yui-san’s father’s own closest aides. Sending him off rudely at reception simply wasn’t an option.
“…I’ll handle it myself. Please show him to the reception room.”
Saying that, I set the receiver down and stood. I could feel a faint sweat gathering on my palms.
What do I do. Kitagami-san’s here.
This is work. I shouldn’t let personal feelings get involved. As Yui-san’s secretary, I just need to handle this with composure.
Besides, I’d only met him once, four years ago, for just a moment. He might not even remember me.
Clinging to that faint possibility, I put my hand on the reception room’s doorknob.
＊＊＊
Even now, four years later, I can still recall that day like it was yesterday.
I’ve never cried that hard, before or since. Closing my eyes against the prickling ache of that memory resurfacing, I took one deep breath.
Then I opened the reception room door.
The figure that came into view hadn’t changed a bit from four years ago — exactly as I remembered.
I looked at him, standing in front of the black leather sofa.
Tall. Clean, neatly styled hair, every bit the polished businessman. Dressed in a dark navy suit, the moment he saw my face, his eyes widened for an instant — and then narrowed, sharp.
Steeling myself against the urge to flinch, I looked straight back into those eyes.
“Thank you for everything. I’m Aozawa, secretary.”
I didn’t say “nice to meet you.” Because I’d already understood. He remembers me. That was near certainty.
Eyes the color of dark-roast coffee with just a few drops of milk stirred in — a distinctive shade of tawny brown.
Deep within those eyes, I could see a sharp blade. A discomfort like having a blade’s point pressed against my throat.
His thin lips curved into an arc. Smiling like that, he looked, I thought, exactly like a snake.
“You… we’ve met before, right? Back when Yui was still a student. Right, you’re the girl who lived with her.”
A chill raced down my spine at that ice-cold gaze.
“You made quite an impression on me. I’d heard you two stopped living together after that, and I figured you’d had some kind of falling out… guess I was wrong.”
“…The president is currently out of the office. If there’s something you needed, I’ll take care of it.”
I answered without addressing his question, keeping it strictly businesslike. What is Kitagami-san even thinking, showing up without an appointment like this?
His gaze, assessing me, sizing me up, seemed to cling to my whole body with an unpleasant heaviness, and it made breathing difficult.
“Ah, is that right? Too bad, out of the office. …She doesn’t pick up her phone, doesn’t even bother replying to messages properly, so I figured I’d come talk in person, but bad timing, I guess. Yui’s always been bad at keeping in touch, but you’d think she could at least manage a proper reply to messages from her partner.”
Partner — hearing that word, I clenched my back teeth hard. Careful not to let it show on my face, I swallowed it down, forced a smile, and looked back at Kitagami-san.
“If there’s something you’d like conveyed, shall I pass along a message?”
“Really? Sorry to trouble you. It’s about Yui’s birthday next month… I invited her to dinner, but she keeps saying she’s busy that day and won’t even discuss it properly. Could you let her know to tell me when she’s actually free?”
“…Understood.”
Hearing that, an enormous wave of relief washed through me. Thank goodness. Yui-san really had turned down Kitagami-san’s invitation.
Thinking about it properly — there’s no way Yui-san would ever say, “I’m having dinner with Shinji that day.” I’d been overthinking it, and relief settled in.
“Sorry for interrupting your work. Well then, give my regards to Yui.”
Saying that, Kitagami-san walked past me and grabbed the reception room’s doorknob. Relieved, I let out a small breath, careful not to let him notice.
Whatever the actual content, at least the matter itself had been simple. Grateful for that.
Somehow, I’d made it through. As long as he leaves now, without suspecting anything further, that’s all that matters.
Overthinking things is a bad habit of mine. It’s fine. There’s no way Kitagami-san would ever imagine that Yui-san is actually dating a wom—
“…Ah, right. Aozawa-san. There’s one thing I wanted to ask you, if that’s alright.”
Before turning the doorknob, Kitagami-san turned back to face me, and my heart clenched, tight, tense.
“Back when you were students — what exactly was the relationship between you and Yui?”
He said it, looking straight into my eyes. Those eyes weren’t smiling at all. Under that piercing gaze, I swallowed, hard.
“…What do you mean by that?”
“Aozawa-san, do you remember? The first time we met. After I introduced myself, you took off running without a word, didn’t you? Right after that, Yui went chasing after you in a panic — and then I went after Yui too. You were already gone by then, but… I’d never seen Yui that shaken before. It stuck with me. What kind of relationship was that, exactly?”
I don’t know. I don’t know how much he’s actually figured out. I could feel a slow, creeping tightness closing in from my feet upward, breath growing difficult.
Careful not to let my agitation show, I never once looked away from those tawny brown eyes. Holding his gaze steady, I parted my lips.
“We were close, as senior and junior. That day, we’d just had… a small falling-out, that’s all. As you can see, we’ve made up since then, so please don’t worry about it.”
Saying that myself was genuinely painful. I wanted to say the truth. That Yui-san’s partner isn’t you — it’s me. But I can’t say that. Not yet, not now.
Whether he’d noticed how I actually felt or not, Kitagami-san narrowed his eyes and gave a thin smile.
“Is that right? Then that’s fine. Well, keep getting along with Yui, going forward too. Take care.”
With almost startling ease, Kitagami-san left the reception room. All the strength drained out of my body, and I sank, boneless, onto the sofa.
Kitagami-san turned out to be a far more unreadable person than I’d imagined. Yukiya-san had called him “a real hassle of a guy” — and now, having actually talked to him myself, I understood exactly what that meant.
Layered, complicated. I couldn’t even tell whether he’s a good person or a bad one.
Thoroughly drained, I stayed distracted, unfocused, the whole rest of the afternoon until Yui-san came back.
＊＊＊
“I’m back.”
The president’s office door opened just before five. The moment it clicked shut behind her, I threw myself against Yui-san, half-colliding.
“Wa—!”
Yui-san stumbled, just slightly, but caught me firmly with one arm regardless.
Honestly, I’d felt like crying. But not wanting to trouble her, I fought hard to hold back the tears threatening to spill. Hugging her tight, tight, that beloved scent of Yui-san’s reached me, and, slowly, my feelings settled.
“Kanata, what’s wrong?”
“…I felt lonely. Hold me properly, more.”
Asking like that, wheedling, Yui-san set the paper bag she’d been carrying down on my desk and wrapped both arms firmly around me.
Glancing down at the desk, I recognized the bag — from that cream puff shop near the station I’d once mentioned liking. Apparently, she’d brought back a souvenir.
Peering into my face, worried, I couldn’t help a small, unbidden smile.
I wound my arms around her neck and rose slightly on my toes. Then I pressed my lips against hers, just a light touch.
Something Kitagami-san could never have — a privilege granted only to me.
Pulling back, I looked into those black eyes, and Yui-san blinked, blank, for a moment, then pulled my waist in even tighter.
This time it was Yui-san who bent down slightly, and our lips met again. Like she was teaching me — this is how it’s done — she kissed me over and over, shifting the angle each time.
After repeating those soothing kisses for a while, “Did something happen?” Yui-san asked, worried.
“…Kitagami-san came. To see you.”
“Eh?”
Her well-shaped brows drew together, her expression turning sharp.
“I took a message for you. About your birthday celebration — he said, ‘let me know when you’re actually free.’”
“…I’ll tell Shinji never to come to the company again. Sorry, for making you feel awful.”
Gently stroking my cheek, Yui-san’s brows drooped, genuinely apologetic. So I shook my head, side to side.
I’m fine. Compared to everything you’ve suffered through, everything you’ve worked for, this is nothing.
The day Yui-san confessed to me, I decided — whatever sin, whatever punishment comes with it, I’ll carry it together with you. I can’t afford to complain over something this small.
“No, I’m fine. More importantly… Yui-san, do you have plans for your birthday? Kitagami-san said you turned him down, saying you were busy that day.”
Pouting slightly, I said it, and Yui-san laughed, soft.
“Of course I have plans. My cute girlfriend’s supposed to be celebrating with me… or am I wrong?”
Just as I thought. Knowing she’d say that, relief settled in, and I smiled back, easy.
“…No, you’re not wrong. I’ll celebrate with you. A lot.”
“Thank you. I’m looking forward to it.”
Meeting each other’s eyes, we laughed together. “I got cream puffs, let’s eat them together,” Yui-san said, so I smiled and nodded too.
That look in Kitagami-san’s eyes had left me a little uneasy — but there’s no way he could have actually figured it out. We’re two women, close friends, nothing more — if that’s how it looks, surely there’s no room left for suspicion beyond that.
Let’s forget the unpleasant memory quickly, and start thinking through next month’s birthday celebration plans for Yui-san instead.
Thinking that, I bit into a cream puff.