Episode 4

A cold sweat tracking down my back. The office is kept cool enough to border on chilly, so there’s no reason to feel warm.

My vision flickers and swims, and I close my eyes for a moment, pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose. I’ve been in similar situations before, but this one is on a different level.

“I’m terribly sorry… this is truly beyond our control… we’ll do everything we can to expedite the re-approval on our end…”

Past eight in the evening, the office noise beginning to settle into quiet, and a voice coming through the receiver — completely wrung out.

Since my invitation to celebrate, Seriha had been carrying herself with quiet, uncomplaining grace. She should have been able to see the end from here.

But as long as we’re working adults, we have to share the same space regardless. The machinery of society has no use for the word awkward.

The work Seriha and I had been progressing together was on track, thanks in no small part to her support — four more days and everything would be delivered and done. That should have been the end of it.

Apparently, at this precise moment, the word had come down from the client’s president: start over from scratch.

In this industry, that kind of thing isn’t unheard of. Unfortunate for the exhausted contact on the other end of the line, but the fault wasn’t ours — I could tell them to sort out their own problems and leave it in their hands. That option was technically available to me.

Except this particular situation didn’t allow for that.

You can’t turn down work from a major beverage conglomerate. Too much money moving, too many people involved. In this case, what the client says goes — absolutely.

This is bad. This is genuinely bad.

Hayama-san was leaving tonight on an overseas business trip. Usui-san had been out sick with a cold for days running. The people above either of them weren’t the kind you could have a real conversation with. There was no one to lean on.

“No choice but to push through…”

I let out a long breath with my head in my hands. Even after expelling every last bit of air from my lungs, I couldn’t find the will to lift my face.

Honestly, I don’t love my work, and I have no particular ambition to outperform everyone else and climb the ladder.

So it would be fine to throw this job aside halfway through. The fault isn’t mine, and I’ve already put in more than enough.

But — as long as I’m working, I can keep treating things with Seriha as if they never happened. I know better than anyone that it’s nothing but an excuse.

The minimum hours you have to work in a day: eight. The maximum: twenty-four. A strange way to think about it, but framed that way, there’s still time.

During the day I can borrow Seriha’s help too. We’ll manage somehow.

I let out one more sigh — I’d lost count of how many — lifted my face, and reached for the keyboard.

◇

I didn’t tell Seriha everything. I told her only that a bit of additional work had come in, and handed her the minimum necessary to help.

She’d looked at me with a questioning expression, but said nothing and stepped in to support me the same as always.

Knowing her, if I’d told her the truth she’d have stayed up all night every night to help. She’d have done it without letting any awkwardness show, without a single word of complaint, working her hardest alongside me.

Even so, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her.

Because I’d been told not to push her? To protect myself from something? Because I was worried about her?

I didn’t know the reason.

I forced coffee down my throat to keep the drowsiness at bay and got back to work.

No matter how long it goes on, I don’t think I’ll ever come to like this bitterness.