Episode 20: Who Was I Hiding It For?
The message from Asakura-san came on a Thursday night.
“Want to grab drinks next Friday?”
I did a double-take at my phone screen at the sudden invitation, then, before I knew it, had already fired back a “I’d love to!”
An invitation from the senior I’ve been admiring. I pumped my fist, just a little. My heart leapt.
Asakura-san’s reply came back faster than expected.
“Great. Looking forward to it.”
A simple message. But somehow that simplicity felt exactly like her, and I found myself grinning stupidly at my phone.
Where should we go drinking? What should we talk about? Just thinking about next week made my chest flutter.
…But.
Staring at the screen, something in my chest suddenly went rough.
I was happy. Happy, but somehow it felt like I was doing something wrong, a guilty feeling creeping in. Why?
There’s no reason I should feel guilty about going for drinks with Asakura-san.
I didn’t know the reason.
Somehow, I was afraid of finding out the answer, so I stopped thinking about it.
Lunch break the next day.
Tray in hand, scanning the company cafeteria for a seat, I spotted an open one by the window.
I set down my mackerel simmered in miso set meal and sat down.
Checking my phone between bites, the chair beside me suddenly clattered.
“There we go.”
I looked up, and Hanamori, convenience store bag in hand, had plopped herself down right next to me.
“This was the only seat open.”
She muttered it defensively, unprompted.
There were plenty of wide-open seats on the other side.
I wanted to point that out, but figured, eh, whatever, and let it go.
“Asami-san, you always eat Japanese food, huh.”
Hanamori said it, peering into my tray.
“Is that a problem?”
“No, it’s fine, but. Couldn’t you branch out a little more?”
“Do I really need to ‘branch out’ at the company cafeteria?”
“You should, sometimes. The cafeteria’s mapo tofu is deadly spicy and interesting.”
“‘Interesting,’ what does that even mean. I’m not good with spicy food.”
“Huh. You look like someone who’d be great with spicy food.”
“What kind of face is that supposed to be?”
Hanamori said it with a smirk, and I frowned at her.
“Don’t you basically live on convenience store rice balls, Hanamori-san? I’ve got this image of you getting by on the quick, easy stuff.”
“That’s not true.”
“No, it’s definitely true.”
“Rude. I actually make my own lunch sometimes.”
“‘Sometimes’… like how often?”
“About once every three months.”
“Ha, see, that’s basically never.”
I teased her a little, and Hanamori made a slightly sulky face. That expression was somehow cute and funny, and my mouth loosened into a smile despite myself.
I don’t hate this kind of conversation.
Actually, it’s easy. I don’t have to be careful around her.
We kept up the pointless small talk for a while, and then Hanamori suddenly looked up.
“Oh, right, Asami-san, are you free next Friday?”
My chopsticks stopped.
“Friday? …Ah… I’ve got plans that day.”
“I see.”
Hanamori’s expression seemed to cloud over, just slightly, for a moment.
“With who?”
“Huh?”
“What are you doing?”
“Uh… um…”
“Where are you going?”
A sudden barrage of questions. Why was she asking so much?
“Um… drinks, with a friend, I guess.”
I hesitated over the answer, my reply coming out weak and unclear.
For some reason, some genuinely unclear reason, I found it hard to say Asakura-san’s name in front of Hanamori, and ended up being vague. Why.
“A friend? A friend from college?”
“No, not that… but.”
“Then someone from the office?”
“Well… something like that.”
“A woman? A man?”
“Why are you asking so much?”
My tone came out sharper than I meant it to. Hanamori flinched, just slightly.
“…Whatever.”
Hanamori turned her face away. Her profile looked, somehow, sulky.
“Just curious, that’s all. A little. You never really struck me as the type to go out drinking much.”
“I go out sometimes too, you know.”
“I see.”
Hanamori murmured it quietly. Her tone was just a shade lower than usual.
“…Have fun, then.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
I answered quietly.
Hanamori stopped talking after that, and the rest of lunch break was strangely quiet. Normally she’d be teasing me more, but today was different.
Hanamori’s profile, eating her rice ball, looked somehow low-energy.
Might just be my imagination. But something in my chest felt unsettled.
Back at my desk in the afternoon, for some reason, I couldn’t focus at all.
Next week, drinks with Asakura-san. I should be looking forward to it, but Hanamori’s expression from lunch wouldn’t leave my head.
What was that expression, even?
And in the first place, why had Hanamori asked about next week like that?
Why couldn’t I answer her?
The unease in my chest wouldn’t go away.
The message thread with Asakura-san sat there on my phone screen. I should have been looking forward to it, but my chest stayed rough and unsettled.