Episode Eighty-Six: You Don’t Have to Answer Right Away
Finishing work, holding my employee badge to the time-clock terminal, I stepped out of the building. Outside had gone completely dark, and, feeling a sharp, biting cold, I pulled my coat collar close.
Maybe because I was heading to see someone I didn’t want to see, my steps toward the designated hotel felt heavier than usual.
I have no idea what Kitagami-san is thinking.
Same as last time we met — I don’t do well with this person. Just being looked at by those dark, coffee-brown eyes is enough to make me feel some indescribable tightness, like my lungs are being wrung out.
He’d said the reason he called me here was “about work” — but there was no way to read the message that way at all, and I felt like I was walking through some fog with no visible end.
If I’m honest, all I wanted was to run away.
My habit of overthinking everything got in the way. However hard I tried not to, I couldn’t stop myself from picturing the worst possible scenario.
Worse and worse thoughts kept spiraling. Maybe it really was just about work, after all — and yet.
But then why keep it secret from Yui-san? Why not use our own company’s hotel, and instead pick one from a different group entirely?
There was no way to reach an answer thinking it through alone, and, caught in a whirlpool of bad thoughts I couldn’t escape, I arrived at the designated location before I even realized it.
Letting out a sigh, I looked up at the hotel. The top seemed to disappear, swallowed into the black sky, it was so tall.
Somewhere I’d never normally set foot. The designated bar lounge sat inside a well-known luxury hotel run by a competitor.
I gripped the handle of my bag, tight. No use agonizing over it any further. I’d already come this far. There was no turning back now.
*
In the end, I never told Yui-san that Kitagami-san had called me out.
Partly, I didn’t want to add more worry to someone already this busy. And partly — reporting it before understanding his real intentions might itself become the very trigger that revealed to him just how far my relationship with Yui-san has gone beyond “president” and “secretary.”
So I’d decided — I’d only consult her after actually hearing what Kitagami-san had to say.
That’s what I’d told myself, and yet, even now, my legs had gone stiff with fear. How pathetic — all I could do was laugh at myself, bitter.
＊＊＊
Seven PM, as agreed.
Deep inside the dim bar lounge. At a counter seat, he sat waiting.
A broad back wrapped in a dark navy suit. The clean, businessman’s air of his neatly styled hair.
We’d only met a handful of times, and yet I recognized him instantly.
Before I even had to speak, Kitagami-san, apparently noticing the sound of my footsteps, turned slowly to face me. Orange light glinted, sharp, in those distinctive tawny brown eyes.
I’ve never once been looked at this piercingly by anyone else, ordinarily. So I understood, immediately — the hostility toward me he carries in that chest of his.
A sickening feeling, like something crawling up from my feet. His eyes, watching me, always sharp as a snake sizing up its prey.
“…Good, you actually came. I was a little worried you wouldn’t.”
I shouldn’t have been late.
I didn’t argue, but, as if seeing straight through my quiet displeasure, Kitagami-san smiled, sly, whiskey glass in hand.
If that’s how you felt, you shouldn’t have called me here in the first place. Unsure what to say, I settled for a bland “sorry for being late.”
Careful not to let my voice shake. Careful not to let the agitation show. I drew one long, deep breath from the bottom of my stomach.
“Sit, next to me.”
Prompted, I lowered myself onto the chair beside him.
“What’ll you drink?”
“…I’m not much of a drinker, so I’ll pass.”
“Don’t be so cold. Since we’re here.”
Saying that, he raised a hand toward the bartender across the counter.
“The same for her.”
Kitagami-san lifted his whiskey glass slightly, smiling, thin.
Wait a second. I just said I’m not much of a drinker…
Before I could object, he glanced at me, sharp, and his eyes landed, fixed, on my chest.
There, glinting, the necklace I’d inherited from Yui-san. Confirming that, he smiled, bold, unbothered.
Handed the glass by the bartender, I couldn’t refuse it and accepted, reluctant.
Swaying inside the glass — whiskey, probably. I’ve never once drunk it straight before…
Maybe noticing my brows draw together, the attentive bartender set down a chaser a beat later too.
Unable to ignore the glass he’d offered for a toast, I reluctantly raised my own too. Something about this felt off, disorienting. I really don’t do well with this person.
Kitagami-san has this forcefulness about him, able to instantly pull anyone, whoever they are, into his own pace. Skilled as a businessman, I’m sure — but being around him is suffocating. Genuinely uncomfortable.
“Never imagined I’d end up drinking with you before I ever drank with Yui. She’s never once come out drinking with me, however many times I’ve asked. You know how weak Yui is with alcohol, right?”
Weak with alcohol? Who? Yui-san?
What? nearly slipped out of me. What is this person even talking about.
Yui-san’s supposed to hold her liquor incredibly well… I started to say, and swallowed it. That had to be a lie Yui-san told, to smoothly deflect him, over and over.
Careful not to let him notice, I let out a quiet sigh and brought the glass to my lips. That distinctive smell, the bitterness on my tongue — my brows drew together, unbidden.
Different from the highball Yui-san always drinks.
Her tongue, always faintly bitter after a drink, still carries a hint of sweetness underneath.
I’d always assumed whiskey tasted like that.
But it doesn’t matter, either way. Whatever I drink with this person was never going to taste good regardless.
“To get right to it… may I ask what this is about?”
“No need to rush. It’s not bad news for you, this.”
There’s no way this could be anything but bad news.
I dislike him, but it seems he dislikes me too. Every word carried a hidden barb, a tension like, drop my guard even slightly, and he’d carve this heart right out of me without hesitation.
“Actually… I’m thinking of recommending you for the Holdings company’s secretarial office.”
“Eh?”
Such a sudden thing, a startled sound slipped out before I could stop it. Unable to process the meaning right away, I studied that face — objectively handsome, I suppose, by the world’s standards — searching for his intent.
“Simply put, a reverse secondment to the parent company. If it goes well, you could even transfer your official employment there permanently. Know our average salary? Both the environment and the pay would be a huge step up from what you have now.”
“No, but, I only just became secretary… I don’t recall having accomplished anything that would warrant a recommendation.”
“That’s not true at all. Managing a secretarial role at your age is genuinely impressive. Ah, are you worried about your replacement? We’ll handle that on our end, don’t worry.”
Not giving me a second’s pause, he said it all in one breath, and I gave a wry, strained laugh.
Just a moment ago, I’d thought overthinking was a bad habit of mine… but I reconsidered.
Good that I’d braced for the worst-case scenario. He really has figured out my relationship with Yui-san after all. Figured it out, and now he’s trying to pull me away from her.
“There’s no reason to turn down an offer this good, is there? Or is there some reason you have to insist on staying Yui’s secretary specifically?”
He asked that knowing full well I couldn’t give him the reason. I felt it, instinctively. What a genuinely, deliberately cruel person.
What should I do — I thought it through. I couldn’t answer immediately. Say something careless, and he’d catch me on it.
This person is sharp. Yui-san might be able to match him easily, but honestly, right now, with zero preparation, this is a little more than I can handle.
“…You said this was to stay secret from Yui-san, didn’t you? But I’m sorry — could you go through proper channels instead? This isn’t something I can decide on my own.”
I had no choice but to keep my answer vague. I wanted to avoid reacting purely on emotion, without knowing what he was actually holding.
At that, Kitagami-san laughed, faint.
“Your will alone is enough. There’s no way Yui would refuse, is there? For your own future, too, this is an outstanding opportunity — what possible reason would you have to dislike it? Work isn’t playtime. Yui understands that too.”
A calm, level tone, betraying no emotion whatsoever.
Which, somehow, made it more frightening. Like a blade held constantly against my throat.
Even the smallest careless move, and I felt like it might slice straight through the skin, cutting my throat open.
Not even hot, and yet sweat broke out, unbidden. Swallowing, again and again, I wet my lips with the whiskey, careful not to let the agitation show.
An unpleasant taste. That aroma, that gritty bitterness clinging to my tongue — I hate every bit of it, and this person too.
If he’s going to push this hard — then, right here, right now, I’ll refuse plainly. Lifting my gaze from the amber liquid swaying in the glass, I looked at him.
It’s fine. He hasn’t pointed it out directly. If he doesn’t actually have proof, there’s still room to plead ignorance.
“I appreciate the generous offer. But, Kitagami-san, I’m sorry, I…”
“Having an employee stay overnight at your house — that goes well beyond the bounds of employer and employee, don’t you think? Getting along is one thing, but if other employees found out, it wouldn’t look good. Even if you’re fine with it, it puts Yui’s judgment in question. Letting personal feelings interfere with company management — you wouldn’t want people thinking it’s nothing but a rich girl’s playtime, would you?”
That sharpened blade of a word cut straight into my chest. Playtime — I didn’t want to hear that word. What, exactly, has this man actually seen of her, all this time?
I understand it wouldn’t look good if other employees found out. But there’s no way, I told myself, firmly, that something like that could shake the three years Yui-san’s spent building this company.
This person doesn’t know anything about Yui-san, really.
Yui-san is like a calm, still nighttime sea.
He doesn’t know her true nature. He’s only ever traced that distant, endless horizon with his eyes, thinking that alone means he knows her — and never once tried to learn that beyond it lies a deep, deep sea, and that the real her is there.
“Thank you for the warning. But there’s no need to worry. I’ll be more careful going forward. So, about the reverse secondment—”
“You don’t have to answer right away. Let’s say… give me your answer in a week.”
Reading ahead of my words, Kitagami-san cut me off, flat, and I fell silent. His thin lips curved into a smile.
But those eyes, watching me, weren’t smiling at all. Dark, cold eyes, enough to send a chill down my spine.
“I don’t like conflict, myself. I’d rather settle things quietly, if possible. One person is plenty to support Yui — me. Yukiya’s not needed. You’re not needed either. Think it over a little more carefully. Including what comes next, for you.”
With a scrape, Kitagami-san stood. Just as I opened my mouth to argue back, a large, knuckled hand landed on my shoulder. The feel of that hand, gripping firm, sent a chill straight down my spine.
“Oh, right… your father’s a friend of President Ichinose’s, isn’t he. Currently stationed in England, I believe? Working at a company just as impressive as our own Group, from what I hear. Quite something. There’s talk around the office that once he’s back in Japan, a board seat is practically guaranteed. Maybe that blood runs in you too — explains your competence.”
Startled, I looked up at his face. Why bring that up. Had he — investigated me?
I mustn’t let the agitation show. This man is exactly the type to exploit any weakness he finds. Anything, I needed to say something back — but just then, my father’s smiling face flashed, unbidden, across my mind.
My throat tightened, closing, and no words would come.
“Well then. See you again, in a week, right here.”
Kitagami-san left, and, left behind, I just sat there, stunned. Only belatedly did I notice — my fist had been clenched, this whole time, tight enough that my nails had dug painfully into my own palm.
Gently unclenching my trembling fingers, I found my palm marked, red, in the sharp shape of my own nails.
＊＊＊
Leaning against the train door, I stared, blank, out the swaying window, at the city lights.
—I couldn’t say anything back. There was so much I wanted to say. …How pathetic.
I knocked my forehead lightly against the window.
Honestly, I never expected him to bring up my father. Was that meant as a threat too?
*
I’d been planning to tell my family, at year’s end, once I went home — but I hadn’t planned on telling them that the person was Yui-san, or that our relationship isn’t something the world would currently forgive.
A daughter’s infidelity, and same-sex, no less.
If that ever got exposed to my father’s company somehow… it might end up causing him trouble too.
Kitagami-san is serious. Genuinely feels threatened by me, and is determined to eliminate that threat completely.
He’s remarkably sharp. I think I’d underestimated him, badly.
Getting off at the station nearest my apartment, I walked the rest of the way home alone. What do I do. What should I do.
Pulling my phone from my coat pocket, with cold fingertips I went to tap the very top of my call history — and stopped.
Instead, I tapped the name just below it. A familiar, well-worn friend’s name.
After a few rings, a reassuring “hello?” reached me, and, finally, the tension that had been coiled tight in my body drained, all at once.
“Sorry for calling out of nowhere. Yuuri, are you busy right now? Um… I just wanted someone to listen to me vent, a little.”
The faintly bitter taste of whiskey, still lingering on my tongue, refused to fade no matter what.
I looked up at the distant night sky.
An endless, deep darkness spread out there, so vast it felt like I might just fall straight up into it.