Episode Fifty-Five: A Message Only Takes Three Seconds to Send, You Know
“Thank you for your hard work!”
6:01 PM. I slapped my employee ID against the time-clock terminal and hurried toward the elevator.
I’d just been warned by the president about running in the hallways, but that’s really not something I have the luxury of caring about right now.
I jabbed the “down” button over and over, then tried to steady my breathing. Of all times, the elevator was way up on some floor far above mine, and a sigh nearly slipped out of me.
Come on, hurry. Restless, waiting, a voice suddenly called out from behind me, and I startled, snapping my spine straight.
“Aozawa-san, heading home already?”
Turning around, I found Niiyama-san from the production team, iced coffee from the convenience store in hand. Even though it’s already past clock-out time, he looked like he was headed back to work.
He’s three years my senior, twenty-seven, and has been a core member of the production team the whole time I’ve been here.
“Yes. It’s clock-out time, so… I’m heading home.”
Ugh, of all people to run into, I thought. Of course, right when I don’t want it to, the elevator stops on some upper floor and refuses to come down. Niiyama-san narrowed his eyes, heh~, and studied me closely.
As far as I know, Niiyama-san works overtime almost every single day — I’ve never once seen him leave on schedule.
Leaving on time is a good thing. Overtime’s not exactly fashionable these days. I genuinely believe that myself, and yet I always get the vague sense this particular person doesn’t think much of it — honestly, if I’m being frank, I’ve never been especially comfortable around Niiyama-san.
“Rushing home in such a hurry — got a date with your boyfriend?”
“…No. I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Not a boyfriend. Not a date. But the person I love is waiting for me downstairs right now. So I don’t have time to stand here chatting with you.
I nearly bristled, but managed to hold it back and keep my face neutral, and finally, the long-awaited elevator arrived — I ignored Niiyama-san entirely and stepped inside.
“Hey, Aozawa-san. If you don’t have a boyfriend, want to go on a date with me sometime?”
That smirking half-grin of his — I really can’t stand it. Not a fan of that hair, either, slicked down so heavily with wax it catches the light.
“…Have a good evening.”
Without answering the invitation, I hammered the “close” button, no room for further discussion.
I’ve changed, at least a little, over these four years. Pushy invitations like that, the kind I probably would’ve gotten steamrolled by before, I’m gradually getting better at turning down properly now.
Catching my reflection in the elevator mirror, I hurried to smooth down my hair. I’d touched up my makeup in the restroom before clocking out, so it should be fine. It has to be fine.
Pressing a hand to my chest, trying to steady the ceaseless, restless pounding, I took a breath. The elevator finally reached the ground floor, and I stepped out of the building, doing my best to look like nothing at all was going on.
*
The infuriating object of my affection, who’d left me hanging for three whole weeks, was waiting for me with that same unbothered smile as always.
“Kanata, good work today.”
Last time we’d met she’d been in a suit, probably because of the negotiation, but today she was in casual clothes. Still such a good figure. I nearly found myself staring.
“…Good work to you too.”
The night the business sale had been announced, a simple message arrived from Yui-san.
“Can I see you Friday night?” — just that, nothing more. I’d wanted to say, isn’t there something else you should be saying first, but I’d decided to save the complaints for when I could actually see her face.
I’m happy to see her. But I’m also, undeniably, still a little sulky about it. Yui-san seemed to catch, just from the tone of my first word, that I wasn’t in the best mood. She tilted her head and peered into my face, and I turned away, pointedly.
“You’ve been really busy since then, huh, Yui-san…”
“Ah, yeah, work’s been slammed lately…”
“Hmm…”
She’s the president, after all. What with the sale and everything, of course she wouldn’t have the kind of time she did back in college. Yui-san and I are in completely different positions now. But still.
“…A message only takes three seconds to send, you know.”
I said it with an edge, and Yui-san let out a small laugh. Why are you laughing, I looked up at her, ready to complain — and found eyes so gentle looking back at me that the words died in my throat.
“Were you waiting for me to contact you?”
“…Well, you’re the one who said ‘see me again.’ And then you didn’t send a single message…”
Wait, am I turning into an extremely “high-maintenance woman” right now? Realizing that, a little too late, I felt myself losing my nerve, my voice trailing off smaller and smaller, and Yui-san laughed and took my shrinking hand in hers.
“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry for being thoughtless. I’ll be more careful from now on. As an apology, let’s go eat whatever you want tonight. Anything at all. What are you in the mood for?”
Something in my chest went restless, itchy. This is exactly why I’ve always loved you — you never complain, no matter how easily I get sulky over something stupid, you always try to win me back.
“Anything?”
“Yeah, anything.”
That gentle gaze, watching me — so achingly familiar, my chest clenched, tight.
“Then… I want dashimaki tamago. The izakaya kind.”
I said it, wheedling, and Yui-san asked, “that’s all you want?” That’s plenty. As long as you’re there, I don’t care if it’s some chain izakaya.
I nodded, and Yui-san laughed, said “got it,” and took my hand.
＊＊＊
“Did you already hear, from the president?”
Just as I was topping my fluffy, dashi-fragrant egg roll with grated daikon, the question came out of nowhere, and I looked up at Yui-san across the table.
Heard probably meant the whole business-sale thing. I nodded, small, once, then took a bite of the dashimaki tamago. Yeah — izakaya dashimaki tamago really is the best.
“I never imagined you’d be in that division, Kanata. I was genuinely shocked.”
“…I’m the one who’s shocked. You never once mentioned it.”
“Sorry. I honestly wanted to tell you sooner, but I felt like this kind of thing should come from the president himself, not from some outside party. I decided to stay quiet until I heard it had actually been announced to the employees.”
Fair enough, I suppose, thinking about it now. There’s no way she could’ve just said, “hey, we’re about to acquire the division you work in.”
“I see… They said interviews start next week. About salary terms, all that. If I want to stay, they said they’d try to accommodate it as much as possible, but…”
Anyone in the production department gets moved to Yui-san’s company, no question. But apparently, for sales and administrative staff, staying behind might be possible depending on individual circumstances. Whether that request would actually go through, I have no idea.
What Yui-san wants is probably the production team’s people. Sales and admin are probably just an afterthought, tacked on.
“…What do you want to do, Kanata?”
Those black eyes fixed on me, serious. I could tell she genuinely meant the question, so I set down my chopsticks and looked back at her.
“Honestly, I’m torn. I mean, I only just joined this company, and I liked my current job, this company too…”
“You were on the management team, right? We have a management department too, so if you come over, I’d plan to assign you to the same kind of role.”
Said so plainly, so definitively, that I found myself thinking — unless I’m flattering myself, maybe Yui-san actually wants me to come.
“Um, wouldn’t it bother you, Yui-san? Having me there?”
I asked, tentative, and Yui-san’s eyes went round, startled, like she’d never expected to be asked something like that.
“No way. If anything, I’d be happy.”
Wouldn’t it be awkward, though? Even if I’m not technically an ex, bringing someone she once had a relationship with into her own company — wouldn’t there be some hesitation about that?
I — don’t mind the idea of working under Yui-san. But there are downsides too. The office location, for one.
“I see. …But I’m still a little torn. It’d mean a longer commute too.”
“Just move, then. I bought a condo near the office. You could live there, you know?”
“Eh?”
Said so suddenly, this time it was my turn for my eyes to go round. Bought a condo? Near the office?
“Yui-san, are you… not living in that house anymore…?”
What happened to the house Yui-san and I spent a year living in together? I found myself missing all those nights curled up together on the sofa, watching movies. If she really isn’t living there anymore, that felt lonely to me. I’d always assumed Yui-san would always be there, in that house.
I asked, and Yui-san shook her head, side to side.
“I only stay at the condo when work gets busy. It’s strictly for work. So you could live there, Kanata. There’s a spare room anyway.”
I couldn’t help a wry laugh at how easily she said something like that. This person spoiling me, apparently, hasn’t changed one bit, even now. I’m happy about it, but still.
“…Is it really okay, giving special treatment to an employee?”
I pointed it out, and Yui-san smiled, bright.
“You’re not an employee yet, are you. Just move before you become one.”
Tempting as that offer genuinely, honestly is… no, I’m not living with her. I shook my head, side to side, and her hand reached out, catching mine, gentle but firm, driving the point home.
Just from that alone, my heart leapt, almost comically.
Back in college, Yui-san had seemed far more hesitant. Last time we met, she’d said, flat out, “I don’t intend to get married.” Maybe that’s why. Even though the fact that she still has a fiancé hasn’t changed at all — that single line seems to have shattered whatever brake had existed, back then, four years ago, in my heart.
I couldn’t bring myself to shake her hand off.
“…I want you to see who I am now, Kanata. I’m not the same as I was back in college.”
Held under that serious gaze, I nearly forgot to breathe.
“If you don’t want to live at my condo, I’ll arrange company housing near the office instead. So please, come to my company. Please. …You could at least give me one more chance, couldn’t you?”
Chance for what — the question rose up, and I forced it back down, swallowing it whole. I’m still too scared to ask that, right now.
“I won’t disappoint you again. …I’ll work hard, so you’ll think better of me.”
My heart raced.
Meeting Yui-san again, I understood it, fully. However much distance separated us, my feelings never changed, and no matter how many times, I’m sure I’d fall for you all over again. I think that’s just fate.
“…I’ll think about it.”
Saying that, Yui-san smiled, relieved, and murmured a small “thank you.”
＊＊＊
Same thought as before — going home to separate houses from Yui-san still feels strange, somehow. She’d driven, probably to take me home after, and hadn’t had a drop of alcohol the whole night, which left me feeling more than a little guilty.
The still-unfamiliar passenger seat, and her new perfume’s scent. I don’t dislike it, but it’s different from the memory, and something about that unsettles me. I wish she’d go back to the old one. Thinking that, I let myself sink into the seat as the car pulled away.
“…Come to think of it, what happened to my room?”
The mention of the house had left me curious, just slightly, and I asked.
“It’s exactly as it was. So you can come home anytime you want.”
Hearing that, something indescribable welled up in me, happiness and heartache tangled together. Had she really been waiting, all this time? For me to come back, to that house?
“Let’s watch a movie together again sometime. Actually, tomorrow’s a day off — want to come over now?”
“Eh…? N-no, not today. Being invited to your place at this hour, Yui-san, feels kind of…”
Like you’re thinking something indecent — the suspicion crept in. Hesitating to say it out loud, Yui-san seemed to catch my meaning anyway and spoke up, laughing just slightly.
“…I won’t do anything, you know?”
“…Your ‘I won’t do anything’ isn’t exactly trustworthy, Yui-san. You’ve got a track record…”
I pointed it out, and Yui-san burst out laughing. See — that, right there, laughing it off exactly like that, hasn’t changed one bit either.
“That’s your fault, for being too cute.”
…There, she said “cute” again. Fighting to keep my cheeks from softening, I turned toward the window so she wouldn’t notice. Ah, we’re almost at my place already.
I don’t want to go home. I want to stay together longer. That feeling — I can’t stop it.
Earlier, about going to work at her company, I’d said “I’ll think about it”… but my mind was already made up.
*
Both Yui-san and I are different now, from back then. Maybe we could draw a different future than the one we couldn’t have four years ago.
Is it okay, to let myself dream again? I found myself, already, beginning to hope.