The Future - Year-End Party, My Calculating Girlfriend Beside Me
Mid-December.
“Alright, everyone, thanks for all your hard work this year! Cheers!”
The president’s toast rings out, glasses clinking through the izakaya’s banquet hall. The company year-end party begins.
I raise my beer glass lightly and look around. The tables are split into three groups, and I’m seated by the wall. And somehow — genuinely, somehow — Hanamori’s next to me again this year.
Across the table this year: Tamura-san, Sasaki-kun, and Kiritani-san, all from sales.
“Good work.”
“Good work, everyone.”
We clink glasses lightly at the table, a sip of beer.
“Great year, everybody.”
At Tamura-san’s toast, the table livens up all at once. Someone’s war story, someone’s failure, someone’s mystery romance consultation.
Laughter bursts out here and there, building into that particular chaotic energy unique to year-end parties.
That’s when it happens.
—Hm?
A slow warmth spreads over the back of my hand, resting on my knee.
I glance discreetly down into the sunken kotatsu-style table — Hanamori’s hand has quietly settled on top of mine.
Keeping my face as blank as I can manage, I steal a sideways glance at her.
She herself looks completely unbothered, chattering away sweetly at Tamura-san across the table: “Ehh, come on, Tamura-san, stoop it~, ufufu.”
…This woman. Fully committed to covering her tracks.
“Kiritani-san, your first year must’ve been rough too, huh?”
When the conversation shifts to Kiritani-san, who’d been under Hanamori’s OJT, I join in too.
—And casually slide my hand, taking hold of Hanamori’s.
At that exact moment, I feel a sharp, pointed stare from the side.
I pretend not to notice and keep talking with Kiritani-san.
Under the table, on my knee — Hanamori’s slender fingers quietly twine in.
Our palms press together, slowly warming.
Then, still in the lovers’ hand-hold, Hanamori starts tracing slowly, gently, from between my fingers to the back of my hand.
“Nhh…!”
A jolt like electricity runs through my whole body, and a strange sound slips out of me despite myself.
This is bad. Way too embarrassing.
I cover it with an exaggerated, “Ahem!” and knock back some beer.
Luckily, the three across the table are too absorbed in conversation to notice. Safe.
I glance sideways at Hanamori, glaring — and she’s stealing a look at me at the exact same moment. Our eyes meet.
A faint smile on her lips. A tiny, mean little smile, one only I would recognize.
…This woman. Completely, knowingly guilty.
Fine, then. Time for payback.
This time, I trace my own fingers from the back of Hanamori’s hand down to between her fingers.
Keeping our hands joined, I move them to her lap, and slowly stroke her thigh, her knee, with my fingers.
Hanamori, glass of cassis orange still at her lips, gives a small, involuntary jolt of her shoulders. Her ears slowly turn red.
But her expression stays composed. Trying hard to look unbothered.
—That desperation is unbearably cute.
Somewhere in the middle of all this, Kiritani-san gets pulled off toward her cohort group, and Sasaki-kun and Tamura-san join a circle from another department.
Before I know it, Hanamori and I are sitting alone together.
Shoulders close, talking in low voices.
“…Please stop doing that in a place like this. Isn’t this basically molestation?”
“You’re the one who started it.”
“That was payback for last night.”
“Then I’ll get you back later too.”
Saying that, we both throw back our drinks, glance sideways at each other, and laugh softly.
Still, though.
Hanamori’s drinking fast tonight. Her glasses are emptying way too quickly.
For someone who can’t hold her liquor.
And her face is red. Really red.
“Hey, you okay?”
“What.”
“If you drink too much, I won’t be able to get you home.”
“I’m fiiine. Not drunk.”
“…Your speech is slurring.”
Still red-faced, Hanamori munches on some fries, then looks off into the distance and murmurs.
“Never thought, a year ago at the year-end party, that things would turn out like this.”
I pick at some edamame too, take a sip of beer, and laugh softly.
“Right. I was just thinking the exact same thing.”
Hanamori seems to remember something and turns to me, lowering her voice.
“Ah, we’re out of bread for tomorrow morning, right?”
“You’re right. Might be low on detergent too.”
“Pick some up on the way home. The supermarket nearby’s open twenty-four hours.”
“Ehh, me again? Let’s rock-paper-scissors for it.”
“Ehh? You sure about that? You’re terrible at rock-paper-scissors, Asami-san.”
Trading that kind of talk, we both laugh softly together. Infuriating as ever, and yet unbearably comfortable.
The night of the year-end party wears on slowly.
By the time the first party wraps up, Hanamori is completely unsteady. Swaying constantly, front and back, side to side. Face bright red.
Her hand holding her glass is shaky. Her eyes have gone completely glazed.
This is bad. Worse than last year, I think.
We’re pulling out after just the first round this year.
The call goes up to close out the first party.
The coworkers around us start grabbing their coats, buzzing with chatter.
“Where’s the second round?” “Karaoke again this year?” “Nah, let’s just keep drinking” — trading that back and forth as everyone heads toward the exit.
“Sorry, excuse me a second, Hanamori-san’s in bad shape, I’ll walk her home.”
I announce that and head toward the exit.
Hanamori clings tightly to my arm, and with a loose, melting smile, waves at the other coworkers. “Good work, everyoneeee~♡”
Outside, the night wind blows. The cold air feels good against my flushed cheeks.
The alcohol mixing with the dry winter air makes my head go a little floaty.
Hanamori’s unsteady, staggering footsteps, her heels clicking irregularly, ring out through the night street.
“Come on. Walk straight.”
“Asaaami-san.”
Saying that, she presses even closer against my arm. A surprisingly strong grip. Her chest, against me. Soft.
“You’re completely wasted. Can’t hold your liquor and still drink too much, every single year.”
“I’m not druuunk~~”
Hanamori laughs, loose and melting.
That unguarded, dopey smile is unbearably cute.
“Asami-san.”
“Hm?”
I turn toward her, and Hanamori’s looking up at me with an upward glance.
Glossy eyes. Red face. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, plump trembling lips. Heat that comes through even in the cold winter air.
*
“I love you.”
*
Saying that, she tilts her head slightly and gives a loose, melting smile.
My heart gives a small, tight squeeze.
“I—I love you too…”
Just as I start to say it—
“Uhp, gonna be sick…!”
Hanamori’s face suddenly turns pale, and she claps a hand over her mouth.
“Whoa! Wai— hold on! Hold it in till we get home! No wait, I don’t want her throwing up in the new place either!!”
Trading that kind of back-and-forth, the two of us stumble unsteadily down the night street together.
The roadside trees twinkle with illuminations.
No room to appreciate any of that. Not a shred of romance left, and I can’t help laughing.
We’re always like this.
…Seriously, such a pain of a woman.
*
But still, I —
love this junior coworker of mine. Hanamori Chisa.
*
I Was Kissed by the Junior Coworker I Hate — Side Stories, Complete