Jealousy - The Hanamori Only I Know
My second two-week overseas business trip. I finally got back to Japan yesterday.
On the day I landed, Hanamori apparently had overtime, and our schedules didn’t line up, so we never got to see each other.
So today’s the first time. At the office.
Seeing Hanamori again after a while, she’s exceptionally cute all over again.
Coming in for the day, Hanamori spots me, smiles, and calls out.
“Good morning.”
“Morning, Hanamori-san.”
“Good work on the trip.”
That natural smile is unbearably cute all over again.
“Ha ha ha, eh, really?”
After a while, laughter rings out from the desk diagonally across from mine. Hanamori’s.
Talking away, sounding like she’s having fun.
The other person is, of all people, the woman at the next desk.
It’s been a bit over two months since Hanamori took over OJT duties for a new hire. The new hire — Kiritani-san — took a gap year before college, so she’s actually the same age as Hanamori.
At first, at home, Hanamori spent ages grumbling about it — “I wanted a good-looking guy,” “I’m really bad with girls, I don’t even know how to act around them.”
Kiritani-san, the new hire, is a bright, friendly type, like a small, sociable dog, the sort who naturally worms her way into anyone’s good graces.
Even Hanamori, who was openly cold to her at first, seems to have warmed up somehow over the course of accompanying her on sales rounds.
“Hanamori-san, did you try the new Nutaba drink?”
“Eh, not yet.”
“It was so good. Cherry blossom flavor. Let’s stop by while we’re out today.”
“Ehh, I’ll stop by if you’re buying.”
“Wait, why would I buy?”
I glance over at Hanamori diagonally across from me as I power on my computer.
She’s checking email, trading jokes with Kiritani-san at the next desk.
I’ve almost never seen Hanamori talk this much with another female coworker.
When I was running her OJT, she was cold to me the whole time; she never once turned that happy expression my way.
Kiritani-san must be exceptionally good at winning people over.
After the morning meeting.
“Heading out on rounds~. Kiritani, let’s go.”
“Yes ma’am, senpai!”
“What’s with that nickname.”
Saying that, Hanamori stands up, bag in hand. She shoots Kiritani-san a light, joking glare, then laughs.
But she looks the tiniest bit happy about the “senpai” nickname.
What is that. Cute, and a little infuriating.
Kiritani-san trots along behind her too, like a Pomeranian being taken for a walk.
The two of them leave the sales floor, chattering away happily.
Hanamori’s calling her by her surname, no honorific. That girl.
Ugh, they look like they’re having so much fun. Those two get along well.
What is this. Why is she that genuinely happy around another girl. Didn’t she say she was bad with women?
That happy, unguarded laugh — isn’t that supposed to be an expression only I get to see?
A sharp sting settles in my chest, uneasy.
It’s probably just a normal, ordinary friendship.
Hanamori, who women tend to actively dislike, has finally made a friend of the same gender.
As her girlfriend, I should be thrilled, throwing a little celebration for it.
And yet. What exactly am I jealous of.
Early afternoon, Hanamori and Kiritani-san come back from their rounds.
“Asami-san, could you check this later?”
At-work Hanamori is, as always, cold toward me, distant enough to be almost funny.
What is this.
She’s having so much fun with Kiritani-san.
Competing right back, I answer with a cold “Got it” and take the documents. Hanamori heads straight back to her desk.
I steal a glance at her back; it looks unnecessarily heartless.
From across the aisle, I can hear their happy chatter — “Senpai, is this right?” “Ah, yeah, that’s it, looks good.”
Grr. Ugh, I know. I know this coldness is just to keep our relationship hidden.
But I want that too. I want to laugh happily with Hanamori too. I’m jealous of Kiritani-san.
Without meaning to, I grip my pen tight. The ballpoint pen did nothing to deserve this.
Eight at night.
A no-overtime day, so everyone else went home early.
Only Hanamori and I are left on the floor.
Hanamori’s also been swamped with deals lately and was working overtime too.
“Asami-san, not heading home?”
Hanamori, apparently done with her work, calls over while gathering her things.
I can feel her gaze from diagonally across.
“Mm, work piled up after the trip. Might be a while.”
I answer without meeting her eyes, still looking at my screen.
“…Then, I’ll head to your place first, like usual.”
“Sorry, can’t today.”
A cold tone slips out of my mouth on its own.
“Eh?”
Hanamori’s voice, a little confused.
There’s no actual plan keeping me busy.
I just end up acting standoffish for no real reason.
Hanamori’s eyes drop. Her long eyelashes cast a shadow.
That lonely-looking expression gives my chest a dull ache.
I know exactly why I’m being prickly like this.
Getting jealous of a younger female coworker.
Getting irritated that Hanamori shows that genuinely happy face to someone else.
Pathetic. Immature.
I’m disgusted with my own narrow-mindedness.
We haven’t gotten to see each other much these past two weeks because of my trip, so honestly I want to go home together and be all lovey-dovey.
But I can’t help putting up this front.
I go to the copy machine, and Hanamori comes over too, bag in one hand, leaning her shoulder close.
She gently rests her hand over mine as I press the print button.
Then traces along the edges of my fingers, the back of my hand, at that maddening distance of barely-touching.
Slow, deliberately teasing.
“…!”
I yank my hand back on reflex.
Why am I being so stubborn about this. Genuinely immature.
I should just hold her hand normally, like always.
Then Hanamori steps in closer and wraps an arm around my waist.
Her body heat seeps through, slowly.
“…I really do want to go. To your place.”
A sweet, melting voice.
“…I said, can’t today.”
“Aren’t you being kind of cold?”
“…That’s not true.”
“…I held out for two whole weeks, you know.”
She whispers it, looking up at me.
Glossy, dark eyes. Lowered brows.
Like an abandoned puppy. My chest throbs.
A heated, aching voice.
That voice sinks unbearably deep into my chest.
There’s no way I can hold out against this.
“Haah. Never mind, then.”
She says it, sulking, and starts to walk away.
Grab.
Before I know it, I’ve caught Hanamori’s slender wrist and pinned her against the wall. Leaning over her.
“Eh, Asami-sa—”
I seal the word with my lips.
Covering her soft lips entirely, pressing mine against hers.
I push my tongue through the gap in Hanamori’s lips.
Answering in kind, Hanamori tangles her tongue with mine.
Hot breath mixing together.
Mmn……
Kuchu, chupu.
In the silent, empty office, only Hanamori’s breathy, sweet voice and the slick, wet sound fill the air.
Tangling our tongues deep, almost painfully deep, we kiss.
Keeping Hanamori pinned to the wall.
My grip on her wrist tightens.
Like I’m trying to fill in two weeks’ worth of thirst.
After a long, deep kiss, our lips finally part.
A thin, glossy thread stretches between our lips.
“This is…… the office, you know.”
Hanamori’s cheeks are flushed peach-pink, her eyes half-lidded, a little mischievous.
A small, sweet whisper from her wet lips.
It stirs my protective instincts pointlessly hard.
Unbearable.
Two weeks was far too long to endure this kind of provocation.
I trail my tongue along Hanamori’s neck.
“Mm……!”
Hanamori’s body jolts.
Thinking she shouldn’t make noise, she covers her own mouth with her hand, trying to hold back.
That sight, unbearably dear all over again.
I keep going, tongue trailing from her neck down along her collarbone, tracing the line of a vein.
And then.
Chuu, juruh.
On impulse, I start leaving marks on her neck.
Like I’m branding her as mine.
Red-purple marks stand out, scattered across her pale neck.
Our lips meet again, tongues tangling.
Hungry, almost rough.
Still gripping Hanamori’s wrist with my right hand, I slide my left hand under her blouse.
And knead her soft chest through the fabric of her bra.
Leaving another mark on her neck with a wet sound as I go.
“…Mm…… hey…… Nagi…… you’re kind of different from usual.”
“…No I’m not.”
“You’re usually gentle…… but today feels like you’ve got no restraint.”
“That’s because Chisa’s the one being mean.”
“But I’ve been holding out this whole time. Because you were being cold……”
Breathless, saying it close enough our noses touch, and our lips meet again.
After the long kiss, I pull back and say:
“Earlier…… can I take it back?”
“Eh?”
“…The ‘can’t today’ thing.”
At that, Hanamori’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, then narrow mischievously.
“Ehh? What should I do, I wonder.”
A sweet, teasing voice.
Infuriating, but way too cute.
In the end, we went home together, to my place.
And what happened after that — well, use your imagination.
The next day.
Kiritani-san, coming in cheerfully, calls out to Hanamori.
“Ah, Hanamori-san, good moooorning!”
“Kiritani, morning.”
Kiritani-san glances at Hanamori’s outfit and her eyes go wide as Hanamori yawns.
“Turtleneck today? Rare for you.”
“Mm…… it’s fine, isn’t it.”
Hanamori’s eyes wander slightly. Her ears are a little red.
And then her wandering eyes briefly meet mine.
Hanamori drops her gaze a little.
Then, turning her face away, she smiles softly.
Bashful. A little embarrassed.
This expression, I’m sure, only I know it.
From now on too. Always.
That sense of superiority makes me unbearably happy.