Episode 3

Back at my desk, I opened my laptop to find a notification from a familiar icon. It’s pointless to keep flinching at every little thing — and yet my head and body refuse to cooperate.

I steeled myself and opened it. Inside was a neatly organised summary of everything that had just been explained, together with a proposed approach going forward. The prose was businesslike and impersonal — nothing in it that felt like her.

She keeps work and everything else separate. Of course she does.

I read through the message. The quality — perfect for a junior, almost suspiciously good for a new recruit — drew an involuntary sound of admiration from me as I typed my reply.

◇

From there, things moved along with surprising smoothness.

Her first impression on the client was flawless. Every task I assigned came back ahead of deadline, polished and thorough. I quietly checked with Usui-san whether she was staying late in secret — she wasn’t.

Almost too perfect.

Honestly, I was surprised. I knew she was capable, but this exceeded even that.

Since then we’d talked alone in meeting rooms more than once, and made the trip to the client’s office together by train on a few occasions too. She hadn’t pushed closer in any strange way, so having her beside me no longer made me tense.

We were both kept fairly busy, with little room for anything off-topic. I’d tell her when this project wound down — that was the plan. The fact that she hadn’t done anything in all this time suggested she might not have the bandwidth either.

About a week left until the deadline. The approval process had been as demanding as I’d been warned, but with Seriha’s support the schedule still had some room in it.

Whether my guard had dropped or I was simply in a good mood, I found myself inviting Seriha to lunch. I had no intention of having that conversation there. I was sure she felt the same.

Her, chasing me like a rollercoaster. Me, dragging my feet and running from giving her an answer. A lopsided kind of relationship — but even so, as colleagues working together, I thought the least I could do was let her know she was appreciated.

Love to! I’ll wait downstairs!

That reply, so unmistakably human, softened something in my face. The machine-like brilliance of her at work was almost awe-inspiring, but this was more like her.

◇

“This is incredible!!”

She announces it with her cheeks full, and I let out a quiet breath of relief and bring a spoonful of curry to my lips. Good today too, as always.

I’d been working in this neighbourhood for just over a year — the kind of place where restaurants line the streets every few metres — but I don’t go out for lunch all that often, and I’d worried about whether I could take her somewhere she’d enjoy.

She presumably has plenty of colleagues her own age, and she might well have been to every nearby restaurant already. That’s what I thought, so I steered us somewhere slightly off the beaten path.

Judging by her smile, at least, I hadn’t disappointed her.

“Do you come here often, senpai?”

She asks once she’s about halfway through, apparently satisfied enough to surface for conversation.

“Hmm — not often exactly, but every now and then.”

A European curry specialist, but the interior is café-style — white as the base, and compact enough that ten people fills it to capacity, which adds to the café feel.

“It’s a bit of a walk, but it doesn’t get crowded, the menu’s varied enough that I never get bored of it. And there’s this too.”

I point to the small glass sitting in the corner of the tray.

“The lassi is so good~ I love little things like this — feels like a tiny happiness!”

A smile that blooms like a flower. She’s better when she’s smiling.

Right now, and during the whole walk here, I didn’t feel the charged gaze I’d come to know from that evening. Again I caught myself half-believing it had all been some dream or hallucination.

And yet — something felt off. A faint sense of strain behind the smile, like she was working to maintain it.

Because it had been weeks now without either of us touching on that conversation. If I were in her position, I think I’d have pressed for an answer by now.

She was making happy sounds around her straw — this is exactly what a tired body needs — when her eyes, just for a moment, took on a loneliness and looked somewhere far away. I thought I saw it.

Those eyes — I know them. She shouldn’t have eyes like that. I shouldn’t be the one putting them there.

“Once the release is done, maybe we could celebrate.”

The words fell out of me without permission.

I hadn’t meant to say anything like that. The words started moving on their own, without asking me first.

“And then — let’s talk. Properly.”

I couldn’t look at her face. Like that day in the restaurant, my gaze was drifting somewhere unmoored.

I thought I finally understood why I hadn’t been able to refuse her outright when she’d pressed me.

— She resembles who I used to be.

“Start thinking about what you’d like to eat.”

What expression was she wearing right now? She was right there in front of me, so why couldn’t I see her?

“…I — yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

I hadn’t known her long. Even so, I could tell her smile had pulled tight at the corners.

I’d been taking advantage of her patience — and in doing so, I’d been hurting her.

So I had to tell her properly, here. Whatever her reasons were, I couldn’t let her stay tethered to someone as hollow as me. I had to set her free.

This choice couldn’t be wrong. Surely — probably.