Episode 13: I’m Jealous of Hanamori-san
That day, at four in the evening, I was tidying up the conference room after a meeting with the design department wrapped up.
A quiet drizzle outside. The only sound was the occasional footsteps of employees passing by on their way back from meetings.
Beside me, Asakura-san, who’d been in the meeting too, closed her laptop.
The way she tucked her hair behind her ear was, as always, picture-perfect. Her lightly waved chestnut hair flowed smoothly along her fingers.
Just that one motion, and it felt like watching a shampoo commercial.
A soft voice, and an unhurried way of pausing between words.
A slender wrist peeking out from the cuff of her white blouse.
Even the stack of documents on the desk somehow looked like a page out of a stylish magazine once she touched it.
I really do get a little dazzled every time I see her.
Asakura-san glanced over at me.
Her long eyelashes blinked once, and a soft smile rose to her face.
“I saw it, this morning.”
“Huh?”
I stopped what I was doing and looked at her. What was she talking about?
The coins I’d dropped in front of the vending machine at lunch? Or that time I tripped on the step?
“The thing with the section chief from sales admin. On the sales floor. That was pretty cool of you, Asami-san.”
Asakura-san tilted her head slightly as she said it. Her eyes narrowed, the corners of her mouth lifting. That expression was unfairly cute.
I hadn’t seen that coming.
Part of my brain panicked, thinking she saw that?, while another part kept replaying the word “cool” over and over.
“No, no… it wasn’t anything, really.”
My voice cracked. Calm down. But I couldn’t calm down. My heart was making a strange sound.
“No, I don’t think many people could’ve stepped in like that, in that situation.”
Asakura-san laughed a little and brought her paper cup of coffee to her lips.
Her fingers were slender and pale. Her nails were neatly done, tasteful beige polish. It was nothing, an ordinary gesture, and yet my eyes kept going to it.
Even a paper cup looked like an elegant coffee cup in her hands. It was the exact same thing I was drinking out of.
“Hanamori-san must’ve been relieved.”
“…I wonder.”
I looked away and spun my pen. Fidgeting, with nothing to do with my hands. Except I don’t actually have the skill to spin a pen, so naturally, I dropped it. It rolled across the desk and onto the floor.
I leaned out of my chair in a hurry to grab it and, with a resounding thunk, smacked my forehead right into the corner of the desk.
“Ow.”
“Are you okay? Fufu.”
Asakura-san peered at me, laughing but clearly concerned. Close. Her face was close. She smelled good.
A fresh perfume, faintly sweet under a soapy scent. My thoughts ground to a halt.
“I-I’m fine.”
I pressed a hand to my forehead and managed to retrieve the pen. Asakura-san was smiling gently.
“Somehow, I got a little jealous.”
“Huh?”
I looked up, pen still clutched in my hand, and found Asakura-san watching me.
“That Hanamori-san has a senior like you, someone who’ll actually protect her.”
She said it lightly, smiling softly, landing the blow without meaning to.
There wasn’t a trace of malice in it. I could tell just from her face. Probably, to Asakura-san, it was just casual conversation, on the same level as talking about the weather or where to get lunch.
But the words hit with devastating force.
Some emotion I couldn’t quite name lodged itself in my throat. My heart started beating at a strange speed.
What is this. Is this romantic feeling? No, that doesn’t seem right. But something was definitely moving. My pulse was racing.
“…No, um, it’s not really about protecting her or anything—”
“Fufu, your forehead’s gone red from that just now, Asami-san.”
I brushed a hand over my forehead, trying to hide it.
Asakura-san laughed.
That smile was unfairly beautiful. The corners of her eyes dropped slightly, a glimpse of white teeth.
I cleared my throat. Then, trying to look back down at the documents, I knocked the whole stack off the desk with my arm.
Papers scattered everywhere with a flutter.
“Ah.”
“Oh no.”
Laughing, Asakura-san helped me pick them up.
My face burning red, I scrambled to gather the papers off the floor. My hands were shaking. Why. Why am I this rattled. Calm down, Asami.
“You’re pretty entertaining, Asami-san.”
“…Entertaining?”
And then, for whatever reason, Asakura-san gently rested a hand on my shoulder.
“I never get bored watching you.”
My brain completely froze.
“Eh, ah, um, no, that’s—”
My mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.
I didn’t even know what I was trying to say. Just sound, no meaning.
“Hm?”
Asakura-san tilted her head. An innocent expression. Completely unconscious of what she was doing.
Just an ordinary, friendly, casual touch. To her.
But to me, it was the kind of thing that stopped the world for a solid three seconds.
“Ah, sorry. Was that too familiar of me?”
“No…! Not at all…!”
My voice came out too loud. It echoed through the room. Asakura-san’s eyes went wide.
I hurriedly lowered my voice.
“Not at all, I’m totally fine. Yep.”
“Good.”
Asakura-san smiled again. I cleared my throat and dropped my eyes to the documents. But none of the words were sinking in. The numbers meant absolutely nothing.
This is hopeless. Work is officially over for today.
“You’re kind, aren’t you, Asami-san.”
“Huh?”
“But at work, you’re like a completely different person, so sharp and composed. I think that’s pretty wonderful.”
Asakura-san rested her chin on her hand, watching me. Her gaze was soft, but somehow serious too.
I couldn’t say anything back.
I didn’t need a mirror to know my face was red.
I tried to say something in response, but my mouth just kept opening and closing. Like a goldfish.
*
At that exact moment—
“Asami-san, about this proposal document—”
A voice from behind.
A familiar, flat voice.
I turned around, and Hanamori was standing there.
Clutching a folder of sales materials, frozen stiff.
Her eyes flicked back and forth between me and Asakura-san, narrowing slightly.
“…Ah, …good work out there.”
Her expression was smiling, but something about it looked strained. The corners of her mouth were up, but her eyes weren’t smiling at all.
“Ah, Hanamori-san.”
Asakura-san smiled softly, turning to look at her.
“We were just saying, right before you came in, how I’m a little jealous of you, Hanamori-san.”
“…Huh, what were you talking about?”
Hanamori asked Asakura-san. Her voice was even. But her eyes weren’t smiling.
“Hm? …Secret.”
Asakura-san laughed mischievously, pressing a finger to her lips.
Even that gesture looked picture-perfect. Like a scene out of a movie. But Hanamori’s expression didn’t soften even a little.
“…I see.”
A faint crease appeared between Hanamori’s brows.
She was annoyed. Definitely. But on the surface, she kept smiling. That gap was frightening. Maybe even more frightening than Section Chief Miyashita earlier.
Asakura-san, not noticing, drained her coffee and stood up.
“Well, I’ll head back then. Good work, both of you.”
She gathered her documents and tucked her laptop under her arm. Even standing up, even walking away, every motion was smooth and beautiful.
I stood there, dazed, watching her back disappear down the hallway.
An elegant retreating figure.
The slender line of her shoulders visible through her white blouse. Her hair swaying. That good smell lingering. A soapy sort of perfume.
What was left behind was silence, and Hanamori’s complicated expression.
“…That’s nice for you.”
Hanamori muttered, looking down.
“Huh?”
“Getting to talk with Asakura-san. Seemed like a good vibe.”
Her voice was flat. But for some reason, there was an edge to it. Definitely an edge.
“No, it’s not really like that—”
“Hmph.”
Hanamori slammed the folder down onto the desk, hard. The sound was loud. Unmistakably loud.
“Please check this.”
“…Hanamori-san, are you mad about something?”
“I’m not mad.”
Instant reply. But there was emotion riding on her voice.
“…You’re totally mad.”
“I’m not mad!”
Her voice snapped sharply at the end. Then Hanamori spun on her heel and strode quickly out of the room.
The door slammed shut behind her, loudly, once again.
…What was that about?
Left alone, I let out a sigh.
Alone in the conference room, two faint scents lingered behind: one sweet, one soapy.
And I was still rubbing my forehead.
It hurt. A dull, persistent ache.
I sighed again and turned back to the Excel screen. The numbers weren’t adding up.
But somehow, that didn’t feel like the priority right now.
I’ll just go home today, I decided, and slowly shut down my computer.
The fluorescent light reflected off the window glass.
Only the sound of the rain quietly filled the room.
And my forehead still ached, just a little.