Episode Sixty-Four: Come to My Office, Right Now
Lunch break over, I headed back to my desk. Manager Yamasato had apparently just gotten back too, tucking her bento box, wrapped in a cute floral lunch cloth, into her tote bag.
Talking with Yukiya-san had helped me sort my own feelings out.
I want to be Yui-san’s secretary. Whatever hesitation I’d had was gone, and the feeling had solidified into something firm.
Still in the middle of training, so it’s a hard thing to bring up — but nothing moves forward without at least talking to Manager Yamasato about it. Applying requires a supervisor’s recommendation letter, after all.
My heart pounded, and I could feel sweat beading, faint, on my palms.
Only just joined the company, might get told “too soon for secretary, not yet” — that would be that. But I won’t know what she’ll actually say until I ask.
Pushing myself forward, I walked over to Manager Yamasato’s desk.
“Manager Yamasato. I’m back.”
“Ah, Aozawa-san, welcome back. Get a little rest?”
Manager Yamasato said it, smiling. Something in my tightly wound nerves loosened, just slightly. Even if I brought up applying for the secretary role, surely she wouldn’t shut it down immediately. She’d at least hear me out.
If I conveyed real sincerity, maybe, just maybe. Only a few months working together, but I felt like I’d gotten some sense of who Manager Yamasato is, at least a little.
“Thank you for earlier. And, um, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about…”
Getting that far, Manager Yamasato’s mouth curved up, easy, like she’d been waiting for exactly this. And before I could continue, she said, “Let’s change locations.”
*
The break area, for the second time today. Sparsely populated, and told to sit and wait on an open sofa, I fought to steady my restless nerves and sank into the same plush red sofa as before. A little while later, Manager Yamasato came back holding two iced coffees.
“Here, this one’s yours.”
“Thank you. Oh, the money…”
“It’s fine, it’s only ten yen.”
Saying that, Manager Yamasato laughed. Sitting close enough that our shoulders nearly touched, a sweet, grown-up scent reached me.
“So, shall we get right into it? What did you want to talk about?”
Manager Yamasato looked at me with that same gentle smile as always, not the slightest bit rattled by my sudden request to talk — it almost felt like she already knew what I was about to say.
I’d thought she might be a little oblivious, but she has a genuinely sharp read on people too… exactly what you’d expect from someone in management, I couldn’t help thinking.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I braced and spoke.
“I’ve thought it over, and, about this morning’s internal secretary posting… I’d like to apply. I know it’s presumptuous, bringing this up while I’m still in training, but… I really want to try, no matter what.”
Gripping my sweat-damp palms tight, I looked at Manager Yamasato with everything I had, wanting, more than anything, to convey that this wasn’t a half-hearted whim.
Manager Yamasato studied me, steady, then let her expression soften into a smile.
“…Aozawa-san. Do you remember what you said to me, the day you were assigned here?”
“Eh?”
Asked so suddenly, a question mark floated over my head.
The first time I ever talked with Manager Yamasato? What had I even said? Had I said something rude, maybe? Scrambling to remember, my eyes wandered, and Manager Yamasato laughed and told me.
“I remember. Because it genuinely surprised me. You said, ‘Could you show me the financial statements from the last three fiscal periods, and the mid-term business plan?’ I’d never had a new hire say something like that to me before.”
Had I really said something like that… Actually, maybe I had. Right when I first joined, I’d been genuinely desperate to understand what Yui-san was trying to build at this company.
“After that, too, you studied hard, asked a lot of questions. You genuinely tried to understand the company’s management direction properly. Not that many people actually do that, you know. So, honestly, I’d been thinking, for a while now — maybe this girl’s more interested in business planning than budget management.”
Hearing that, I remembered — right after joining, I really had peppered Manager Yamasato with question after question, almost obsessively.
“…Sorry, for being such a troublesome subordinate.”
Looking back, it’s all a little embarrassing. I’d been desperate too, wanting to be some help to Yui-san… Saying it, a little sheepish, Manager Yamasato laughed and shook her head.
“Not at all. Before I became manager of budget management, I spent a long time in business planning myself, so it was genuinely fun getting to talk shop like that with you. Anyway, I’ve gotten off track — what I actually wanted to say is, I’m genuinely happy you came to me wanting to challenge yourself. That’s my honest feeling. A chance to learn right beside the president doesn’t come along often. I think it suits you perfectly. So, I’ll happily write your recommendation.”
Said with a smile, and, overwhelmed with gratitude, I looked up sharply.
“Thank you so much. Are you really sure? I’m still in the middle of training…”
“That doesn’t matter. Opportunities don’t come around conveniently timed to exactly when you want them, so when a chance shows up, you take it. That’s genuinely important. Because you never know when the next one’ll come along — waiting around would be such a waste, don’t you think? Even if it doesn’t work out, you’ve got a place to come back to. It’s worth the attempt. I’m rooting for you.”
Ah, I thought, genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, how lucky I am to have this person as my supervisor. Manager Yamasato, sorry for ever thinking you were oblivious. Since becoming a working adult, getting to interact with so many adults like this, it strikes me all over again.
I’m still so young, so green. Can’t do anything on my own — I’m only here because of the support of so many people around me.
Yui-san, meanwhile, skipped every single rung of that ladder new hires are supposed to climb one step at a time, entirely through sheer effort, and became president. How much hardship must that have taken?
I bowed my head deeply, thanking her again. Manager Yamasato said, smiling, “Since I’m the one recommending you, you’d better pass, okay.” So I smiled and nodded back.
＊＊＊
Once Mitsuya-san and Seno-san got back from their overnight training, I told them right away that I planned to apply for the posting. If it made it through document screening, there’d be an interview too. I figured there was no point hiding it, and I knew it would inevitably cause them some inconvenience either way.
Mitsuya-san gripped my hand tight and said, “I’m rooting for you,” and Seno-san, in her usual breezy way, offered a simple, clean “good luck” of support.
So I’d managed to win over the whole budget management team — but I deliberately said nothing to Yui-san about applying for the secretary role. Even in our daily back-and-forth of messages, I never once brought the topic up.
Because, for whatever reason, Yui-san doesn’t really seem to want to talk about work when she’s with me. I figured maybe she’s the type who prefers to keep work and personal life separate.
Just as she’d said back in spring — “summer will get busier” — with the new resort hotel opening bearing down, Yui-san’s been either away on business trips constantly, or, on the rare days she’s in, disappearing into the president’s office with a convenience store bag in hand, no break taken at all. That’s the kind of days she’s been having.
If I actually became her secretary, could I be some support to a Yui-san like that? No — not “could I.” No room for that kind of weak thinking. I will. I have to hold myself to that kind of confidence, or there’s no way a rookie like me could ever push past the other candidates to land the role.
Manager Yamasato really does work fast, and had the recommendation letter finished up almost right away. Even swamped with shortened working hours, she still read through my statement of purpose carefully and helped me polish it — I genuinely can’t thank her enough.
Kind, considerate, seemingly easygoing and yet watching people closely the whole time. A wonderful person. Someday, I’d like to become someone like Manager Yamasato too, I found myself thinking.
*
The application materials, coming together almost entirely thanks to Manager Yamasato’s guidance, were finished, safely, three days before the deadline. I checked carefully for typos, and I think the content itself came out genuinely well-crafted, thought through carefully.
If it’s purely about sincerity, I won’t lose to anyone. Thinking that, I clicked the submit button on the application form.
“Alright, submitted…”
Confirming it uploaded successfully, I let out a breath and sank back against my chair. One hurdle down, at least. Apparently document screening comes next — I wonder if Yui-san herself will be the one reviewing the applications?
I found myself a little curious how she’d react to me applying. If I asked, would she tell me how competitive it is?
I wet my lips with tea that had gone completely cold. Too absorbed to notice, a fair amount of time had passed since I’d brewed it.
Maybe I should message Yui-san tonight after all, I thought, idly — when a company chat notification suddenly popped up in the bottom right of my monitor, and I found myself doing a genuine double-take at the familiar name displayed there.
“Huh…?”
“Come to my office, right now.”
The display name read: “Ichinose Yui.” There’s no one else at this company sharing that exact name. Unmistakably, a message addressed to me, from Yui-san, president of this company.
This was the first time I’d ever gotten a company chat message. Because whenever there’s actually something to say, it always comes through my personal phone instead. First time being summoned to the president’s office too. Which means this isn’t a personal matter. Definitely something about work.
Somehow… this feels like a bad sign.
“Um, Manager Yamasato.”
“Hm? What’s wrong? Couldn’t you submit it?”
I called out, hesitant, to Manager Yamasato, seated at the head of our little budget management row.
“No, I submitted it fine, but… the president just summoned me, so could I step away for a bit…?”
The moment I said it, Mitsuya-san and Seno-san both shot up from their chairs in perfect unison, practically leaning over my monitor. Seeing the still-open chat message from the president, Seno-san tilted her head.
“Whoa… I wonder which kind this is.”
“Which kind? Wait, what do you mean?”
Mitsuya-san pressed, checking Seno-san’s meaning.
“The president calling someone in personally is a pretty big deal, right? I mean, whether it’s the good kind or the bad kind, hard to say.”
Put that way, I started to feel a little uneasy. Knowing Yui-san, I don’t think she’d be angry… but it’s still a little worrying.
Manager Yamasato, noticing my restless, fidgety nerves, gave my shoulder a light pat.
“Now, now, you two, don’t go stoking anxiety like that. We won’t know what’s on the president’s mind unless the president tells us. Anyway, Aozawa-san, off you go.”
At that, I nodded, small.
“Sorry, I’ll be right back.”
Grabbing my notebook and a pen, I hurried off toward the president’s office, my two seniors’ encouragement at my back.
Standing in front of that heavy, imposing door I’d never once set foot behind, my heart was pounding hard enough that it felt like it might actually burst.
Hesitant, I knocked, and Yui-san’s voice came from inside — “Come in.”