Episode 2
“Good work today.”
I put on my usual polite smile and send off another weary-looking colleague with the standard farewell and words of appreciation.
How many was that now? I’d intended to leave early today, but somewhere along the way I’d looked up to find no one left in the office but me.
“How did it come to thiiis…”
I let out a formless groan and slump face-first onto my desk. The time displayed in the corner of my monitor reads 22:30. Four hours past the end of the workday.
“Tired… want to go home… hungry… sleepy…”
I had genuinely planned to leave on time today. Had the plan all worked out, too.
The work I’m currently dealing with wasn’t even on my original schedule. A tokkyū-anken — one of those “urgent matters” with no assigned owner that just needs someone to handle it.
I have to pick up my child. A voice, apologetic. My favourite artist’s live show is tonight. Another voice, barely concealing excitement. The voices I’d heard a few hours ago drift through my head.
A new novel from my favourite author came out last week, still unread. A live-service game I play sometimes had an update I needed to check. That was about the full extent of what I’d been planning to come home to.
“…It’s not like today was the only day I could do any of it.”
My tendency to talk to myself gets worse the moment I notice I’m alone in the office.
A lover waiting. Family waiting. Friends waiting. Somewhere that needs you to be there.
For someone like me, who keeps choosing colourless and transparent — none of that exists. None of it is necessary.
A world full of vivid colour must be wonderful. But even beautiful colours, if you mix too many together, turn murky. And even the most beautiful flowers eventually wither and lose the colours they once had.
In a colourless world, nothing happens that makes your heart race. Some people would find that unbearable — boring to the point of suffocation. They might even call it the same as being dead.
But I have no intention of changing. If the time for that ever comes, it’ll be in my next life.
Stop. My thinking always tilts negative this late at night. I get the documents needed by tomorrow midday into order, write everything up neatly with annotations, and send the email.
“How are we doing tonight — Hiito-senpai?”
A voice, completely out of nowhere.
My spine goes cold at something registering outside my awareness, and a small sound escapes me. It’s a lovely voice, and it should be pleasant to hear — but the timing couldn’t have been worse. And more urgently: did she hear me talking to myself just now…?
“Senpai, you’re way too jumpy. Your reaction was so cute it startled me.”
Ichikawa Seriha.
Two years my junior. A very conspicuous new recruit who works on the team next to mine. Her hair is wrapped in fluffy curls the colour of milk-tea beige, and it looks incredibly soft. She’s taller than me, and — well, she’s bigger in various ways. Very well-developed; I find myself genuinely envious.
She always wears soft, floaty clothes, and between that and her drooping eyes she’s always reminded me of a tanuki — adorable. But that appearance is deceptive: her mind moves fast, and she has a directness that lets her say exactly what she thinks even to bosses twice her age. Despite possessing the kind of looks that everyone acknowledges as a gift, she’s never once seemed to lean on them. The heavens, they say, do not bestow two gifts upon one person — and yet here she is.
“S-sorry. I let my guard down for a second.”
Seriha’s quiet laughter rings out, and I reach for a composed, steady voice to paper over the pathetic state she walked in on.
“But — why are you still here at this hour? Won’t Hashida-san be upset? If you’re in some kind of trouble, I can help. Just say the word, don’t hold back.”
She’s a second-year employee who was assigned here last summer. We don’t overlap much at work. Her senior on the team has always looked after her, so I wouldn’t have expected her to stay this late alone. Also — you shouldn’t leave someone this pretty loose in this neighbourhood at this hour. If something happened, it’d be too late.
“Thanks for your concern. Though honestly, I’m more concerned about you, senpai. You were sort of… melting.”
She continues, holding her phone toward me.
I thought it was cute so I took a photo.
…Excuse me?
“Oh, so senpai makes that kind of face too. A little unexpected, honestly.”
I hadn’t noticed she was there at all, so it follows — but had I really been too tired to hear the shutter?
“Th-the photo — please delete it… I can’t have something that embarrassing living in your camera roll…”
The composed voice I’d been working to maintain wilts completely. Putting on a voice is all well and good, but you can’t keep it up for long.
More pressingly — I give a small cough and steer back to the point.
“I’ve finished what I needed to do tonight, so I’m fine. What are you still doing here at this hour?”
Her team isn’t especially busy right now, as far as I know. Which means there must be some not-great reason she’s still here.
“Weeell — I closed a document I was updating before saving, and the deadline’s tomorrow, so I’ve been rebuilding it from the middle.”
She drops her shoulders in exaggerated dejection.
Everything she does is picturesque. Tsumugi is beautiful too, but Seriha is — I can’t quite put it into words. Something about her is cute in a way that could be clipped from any angle and used as a still image.
“Anyway — senpai.”
She drops the performance, and her expression turns suddenly serious.
“Just now — did you say ‘just say the word, don’t hold back’?”
Did I? I said something like that, I think. Honestly, I’m tired enough not to have noticed someone walking up behind me, so I can’t have full confidence in my own words.
“Ah — I mean. Did I? Maybe. Well, either way — if there’s something you want to talk through, I’m happy to listen.”
Last train notwithstanding, I add, and wait for her response.
Being bullied by a senior. An annoying boss. The cafeteria’s daily special on a losing streak. That’s about the range I’d expect — the kind of thing you could talk about with an acquaintance from the next team over.
When no response comes, I let my straying gaze drift up to find her face.
At least, that was the plan.
Sudden proximity. Seriha leans smoothly in, and warm breath grazes my left ear. In the quiet office with no one else around, the sound of my own heartbeat fills the space around me.
A sweet scent. Like amber — a sweetness closer to vanilla. I’d had her pegged as someone who wore something fresher. Lemongrass, maybe, or citrus.
“Then — go out with me. I mean it.”
…Huh?
go out?.. outside?.. go out together?..
Is this that?
No, it isn’t, is it? I’m not convinced by any of it, nor do I understand it. Apparently the pasta and salad I had with Tsumugi weren’t enough to keep my brain running this late into the night.
“U-um…”
My voice wavers. And on top of everything, she’s too close. Has she said anything since then? The alarm-bell pounding of my heart might be drowning it out.
“Are you listening, Hiito-senpai? I mean it, you know…”
The bright smile from before is nowhere to be seen. I sneak a sideways glance at her, and find a composed, glossy expression settled on her face — older-looking than usual.
Like a guinea pig cornered by a tiger. Though — does that actually happen? I’m not well-versed in the ways of the wild.
“Um, what kind of matter is it? Work matters can take a while to sink in, so maybe something straightforward would be better — simple tasks, maybe. Oh, but knowing you, you’d handle those on your own anyway. W-well in that case…”
It’s clearly not about work. I put on a blank, oblivious act and fire back words at speed. I meant to use my normal voice but I can hear it pitching up, and so can she, I’m sure.
Whether she means it, whether she’s teasing, whether it’s some kind of dare — I can’t tell. But whatever she’s offering, it’s too dazzlingly bright for me. Colour — it’s better without it.
“Speaking of — is your last train okay? Sorry, I was completely measuring time by my own standards. If you live far, you should probably head out—”
Deflect. Deflect. In moments like these, momentum is everything.
She watches me stumble over my words, and narrows her eyes just slightly — then huffs out a soft laugh.
“You did tell me to say whatever I wanted, senpai. So I said what I wanted.”
“Thanks for worrying about my train, by the way! You read the situation exactly right, so I’ll head off for today. See you tomorrow!”
She delivers it brightly, and leaves with a smile like a flower in full bloom. The mechanical sound of the automatic door closing lingers in my ears.
I exhale slowly, and sink back into my chair as the tension in me snaps. I touch my left ear — where she’d been — and it’s running strangely, noticeably warm.