Episode Sixty-Five: Jokes Like That Are Bad for My Heart, So Please Stop
I put my hand on the cool gold doorknob. At a moment like this, for some reason, I found myself thinking back to the first time I ever met Yui-san.
I’ve never once been as nervous, before or since, as I was that first time at the airport. The tension I’m feeling right now, this tangle of anticipation and dread, feels exactly like that.
I pushed open the heavy door, and on the other side — sitting in the leather desk chair, chin propped on one hand, watching me — my eyes met Yui-san’s, dead on.
“Excuse me…”
My first time in the president’s office. Curiosity got the better of me and I found myself glancing around the room.
Bigger than I’d expected. Yui-san’s desk, bookshelves along the wall, and a large black leather sofa, apparently for receiving guests, big enough that a person could comfortably lie down on it.
The person in front of me is someone I know so well, and yet, in this room, she looks almost like someone from another world entirely.
“Lock the door. You can sit there.”
Eh, lock it? I bit back the urge to ask, and, watching Yui-san’s expression, reached behind me and turned the lock. A cold, metallic click echoed through the room.
Told I could sit on the sofa, I didn’t move toward it on my own, just stood there watching her, and Yui-san, apparently noticing the anxious wavering in my eyes, smiled, gentle.
“…Don’t look so scared. I’m not going to attack you or anything. I just want to talk without anyone interrupting.”
She stood from her desk and walked to the sofa. Once seated, she patted the spot beside her — come here.
I’d been a little afraid she might be angry, that I’d applied without consulting her at all — but the person sitting there was just the same Yui-san as always. Relieved, I felt some of the tension drain out of my body.
“…You startled me, calling me in so suddenly.”
Approaching, hesitant, I sat down beside her, leaving a fist-width gap between us. My body sank, drawn in, into the plush, expensive-looking leather.
Yui-san turned her whole body toward me, propped an elbow on the back of the sofa, and looked at me straight on.
“I’m the one who’s startled. Why’d you apply for the secretary position? You never said a single word about it.”
She’d already read the application, and I’d only just submitted it. I’d assumed document screening would go through HR first, but apparently that wasn’t how it worked.
“…The requirements said regardless of tenure, age, or department, didn’t they? So I’m not allowed to apply?”
I shot back, faintly annoyed, and Yui-san said, “No, that’s not it… I just never expected you to actually apply,” trailing off, evasive.
“…Did you actually read through the application? I worked hard on it…”
“Yeah… I read it properly. The statement of purpose, the recommendation letter. Knowing how hard you’re trying, for the sake of the company, genuinely made me happy.”
Gripping my hand tight, saying that, I looked into those black eyes.
Squeezing my hand tight like this, whenever she wants to have a serious conversation — that’s a habit of Yui-san’s, unchanged since college.
“It’s not for the company. I want to be your support, Yui-san.”
Right — not for the company. But honestly, it’s not purely for Yui-san’s sake either. I just don’t want to hand the position beside the person I love to anyone else.
Yui-san’s eyes widened, just slightly, startled, and then she let out a long, deep sigh.
“Kanata… that’s not fair.”
Called “not fair” like that felt like an unfair way to put it. I haven’t done anything underhanded. I never even told Yui-san I was applying, and I certainly didn’t cut in line ahead of anyone.
If anyone’s not playing fair, it’s Yui-san. Because right now, she’s the one who summoned me to her office.
“I applied properly, following the rules, didn’t I?”
“You did, but… it’s still no good. Please, withdraw it.”
“Why?”
“Because it defeats the whole purpose. If you end up busy too, there’s no point bringing on a secretary at all.”
Defeats the purpose? What does that even mean? What is she talking about?
Not understanding the meaning behind it, I searched her composed face, trying to read her real intent.
The slight closing of distance between us set my heart pounding, unbidden.
I still — don’t want this. I don’t want to hand it over to anyone else.
Yui-san really is an irresistible person. …Becoming her secretary, spending that much time together, I don’t think there’s any way I could avoid falling for her even harder.
Unlike back then, she’s not playing around with women anymore, sure, but this person is, fundamentally, a born flirt who seduces women as naturally as breathing.
I studied her eyes, wavering, troubled.
Yui-san has no idea, none at all, how much I love her — enough that I don’t want to hand even a single one of her smiles over to anyone else.
“…I really do want to become your secretary, Yui-san. Please, give me a real reason. Is it that I’m not up to the task?”
“That’s not what I said.”
Is that true, though? Maybe there’s some other reason — wanting someone more capable instead, using this as a convenient excuse. That’s possible too.
“I’m an amateur when it comes to management, but… I can at least read financial statements, understand the basics. If I need to study more, I will, as much as it takes. Even so… is it still no good?”
This time it was my turn to grip her hand back, tight. I didn’t apply on a whim either.
I learned the basics of being a working adult from Mitsuya-san, from the ground up, at my old company, and Manager Yamasato-san’s given me detailed guidance on this company’s management direction, competitors’ movements, even our own company’s strengths.
Of course there are things I still fall short on. But I can make up for lack of experience with effort.
Maybe finally realizing I was more serious than she’d expected, Yui-san’s brows drew down, troubled.
“…I understand you’re genuinely serious about this. But… you’d be tying your whole schedule to mine, from here on out. Your days off would get irregular, and business trips would increase too.”
“I don’t mind.”
Hearing that, Yui-san let out a “hmm…” and crossed her arms, thinking it over.
Maybe just one more push? Sensing an opening, I gripped her left hand tight with both of mine and pulled.
“Please, Yui-san. Because if I became your secretary… we’d get to be together so much more, wouldn’t we?”
“Eh,” Yui-san said, caught off guard. Her long lashes blinked, rapid, several times, and then she shook her head, side to side, like shaking something off.
“No, no, no… this isn’t fair. You know I’m weak to you asking like that. …There’s still three days left before the deadline, so please, think it over again.”
Think it over — about what? My mind’s already made up. She doesn’t have to be this resistant about it. Annoyed, I glared at her.
“No. I won’t withdraw it. …If you dislike me that much, just reject me in the document screening.”
At that, Yui-san let out a small sigh.
“…With Yamasato-san’s recommendation attached, there’s no way I could reject you out of personal feelings. The application was flawless. A full head above the others. There’s not even a reason to reject it.”
“Right? Because Manager Yamasato-san went over it with me, over and over. You might already know this, but Manager Yamasato-san is genuinely amazing. Great at her job, kind, someone I can really rely on… I really admire her.”
“…Hmm… is that so…”
The hand still holding mine tightened, sudden, hard. Something felt off, and I looked up, and Yui-san peered into my face and smiled, bright.
“…You sure do look up to her a lot, huh?”
There’s something familiar about that smile. Lately I’ve finally started to understand — when Yui-san gets like this, she’s actually, genuinely jealous.
“…Of course I respect her. And lately, being around Manager Yamasato-san makes my heart race, actually. I wonder why. At this rate I might really fall for her.”
That’s a lie, of course. My heart’s never raced for anyone but Yui-san. But at this point, I couldn’t afford to care about appearances anymore.
“Eh…? What are you even saying? Yamasato-san’s married, isn’t she. That’s not allowed, absolutely not. Because that would be… an affair!”
I decided not to point out that Yui-san herself, back in college, had a fiancée and still went around playing with a rotating cast of girls anyway.
“That’s really none of your business, Yui-san, sorry about that. Anyway, I’m not withdrawing it. You’re the one who should reconsider, Yui-san.”
Saying that firmly, I pulled my hand free from her tight grip and stood.
“Well, I should get back to work.”
“Ah, wait a second… we’re not done talking…!”
She’s just going to tell me to withdraw it again anyway. I don’t want to hear any more of that. Turning to leave, I clicked the lock open and reached for the doorknob, when a hand shot out from behind me and slammed the door shut.
“…Kanata, you’re joking, right?”
A voice from behind, far weaker than I expected, and I turned around on reflex. Startled by how much closer she was than I’d thought, I looked up and met Yui-san’s eyes — drooping, deflated, like a scolded puppy.
“You’re not… going to fall for Yamasato-san, are you…?”
Watching those eyes waver with such genuine anxiety, something in my chest clenched, tight, unbidden.
I couldn’t help a small laugh, and Yui-san stared down at me, blank, blinking.
Silly. It’s obvious, if you just think about it for a second. Manager Yamasato-san’s not just married, she has a kid. And besides — from the very start, you’re the only one I’ve ever seen.
“…Yui-san, you’re cute.”
“…Wait, did you just tease me?”
Not knowing a thing about how I actually felt, Yui-san’s faintly displeased face was so unbearably endearing that this time, I really did laugh out loud.
“Even I want a little payback sometimes, you know.”
“Ugh… jokes like that are bad for my heart, so please stop…”
Saying that, Yui-san pulled my shoulder in close. Startled, before I knew it, I was pulled into a tight embrace, held completely, folded into her arms.
Instantly, my own heart started pounding, wild, like it might break.
Eh, eh, what’s going on? What’s happening right now?
“U-um, Yui-san…?”
Even saying her name, she wouldn’t answer. Held so tight I could barely breathe, I found myself wanting to hug her back, helpless.
“…What’s… gotten into you, all of a sudden…”
I wanted to see her face — right at that moment, her lips pressed gently against my ear, and my whole body, still held tight, jolted, exaggerated.
“…Keep being this mean to me, and I’ve got ideas of my own, you know.”
Whispered sweet, right at my ear, a shiver raced down my spine, and I squeezed my eyes shut without meaning to.
“Yui-san, that, tickles…!”
Ever since we reconnected, she’d barely tried to touch me at all — why does some switch flip on, suddenly, exactly at moments like this?
Nipped lightly at the ear, on the verge of some embarrassing sound escaping me, I pushed at her shoulder with everything I had.
“Yu— Yui-san, seriously…!”
At that, the distance opened between us, easy, almost too easy — and looking up, I found her eyes narrowed, mischievous.
I could tell immediately, seeing that look — I’d just been played.
“Your face is red. Really, you’re so cute, Kanata.”
Saying that, Yui-san smiled, bright.
Since reconciling, Yui-san had been so uncharacteristically meek this whole time that I’d gotten carried away — but maybe teasing Yui-san back is still a little beyond me.
“…Doing this kind of thing at the office… you pervert, Yui-san.”
Hiding my flushed face behind my arm, I protested, and Yui-san laughed, innocent, like a kid whose prank had landed perfectly.
“Getting to see cute Kanata means I can push through the rest of the afternoon.”
“Honestly, you always say things like that… I don’t even know you anymore!”
Saying that, this time I really did reach for the doorknob, fleeing the president’s office, trying to cover my burning-red face.
*
Contrary to my own resolve to become her secretary, it seems Yui-san has some other plan in mind… but.
I don’t care. I’ll overturn it, no matter what it takes.
Stopping, I crossed my arms, thinking. Is there some strategy I could use? Before Yui-san finds some other candidate.
No point agonizing over this alone. Times like this call for hearing someone else’s opinion.
Deciding that, I hurried back toward my own desk.