Episode 66
I woke to the creak of the bed as I rolled over.
For a moment, I thought I could smell Fujishiro faintly.
It annoyed me somehow, and the sleepiness drained right out of me.
Come to think of it, Fujishiro was the one who gave me this bed…
She’d said she didn’t need it anymore, so I could have it, but looking back, I wondered whether I should have taken it.
I checked the time on my phone. It was a whole hour earlier than I usually woke up. I thought about going back to sleep, but Fujishiro’s face floated into my head and I couldn’t.
When did Fujishiro start liking me?
Going back over everything that had happened between us, my face grew hot.
We’d kissed, too.
At the time, I’d thought we were just using each other out of curiosity.
The thought that every one of those actions I’d taken to be meaningless might have meant something filled me with awful guilt.
But no amount of thinking was going to produce an answer, so I gave up, got out of bed, and began getting ready.
I washed my face, styled my hair, did my best at the makeup I’d only just started wearing, and put on my suit.
It was early, but I decided to take a walk and explore the town on my way, so I left the flat.
The moment I stepped outside, I nearly shouted.
Fujishiro was standing in the space between my door and hers.
“Oh, Morishita. Morning.”
“That’s creepy.”
“I didn’t know what time you leave for work, so I waited.”
“Huh?”
How long had she been standing there?
She might have waited a good while, yet Fujishiro looked at me without a flicker of concern.
“If you need something, ring the intercom.”
“I thought it’d be rude if you were asleep.”
“Then contact me on your phone.”
“Good point.”
“Are you stupid?”
“Yeah. Anyway, here, this.”
I couldn’t accept her answering “yeah” when I called her stupid, and I disliked that she was trying to hand me something.
“What is this?”
“You don’t have to eat it, or anything.”
“Excuse me?”
“I made you a bento, so eat it.”
Fujishiro shoved the lunchbox at me, then shut herself in her flat at once.
This was meddling beyond all reason, and a real nuisance.
Unfortunately, what remained in my hands was a bento wrapped in an arabesque-patterned furoshiki.
Should I ring her bell and give it back? No, knowing Fujishiro, she’d ignore me however many times I asked her to open the door.
I gave up, tucked the bento into my bag, and headed for work.
Once I got to work, I tried my best not to think about what had happened that morning.
I sat at my desk and worked through the tasks I’d been taught, one after another. Time flew by, and before I knew it the problem hour had arrived: lunchtime.
I usually ate in the cafeteria, but today I stayed at my desk, glaring at the bento Fujishiro had given me.
“Morishita-san…?”
“!? Y-yes?”
I turned around at once.
A small woman stood there, fidgeting and trying to make herself smaller.
This was Arai-san.
She’d joined at the same time as me and been assigned to the same department.
On our first day, I’d shown off my social awkwardness and it had ended in an uncomfortable atmosphere, but she had come to talk to me again anyway.
“Um, if you’d like, would you want to have lunch together? Over in the break area?”
“Oh, um, yes.”
I couldn’t think of any reason to refuse, so all I could do was nod.
I picked up my bento and followed her.
Arai-san spread her own lunch out on the table and began eating happily, so I had no choice but to open the bento from Fujishiro too.
But the moment I saw what was inside, I froze.
I was taken aback by the sheer variety of colourful side dishes, and by how much rice there was.
“Wow, your bento is amazing, Morishita-san. Do you make all that in the morning?”
“No, this is…”
What would Arai-san think if I said someone had made it for me?
Normally, wouldn’t it be a bad thing to eat a lunch that someone else had cooked for you, when you couldn’t even cook for yourself?
Still, I thought lying would be wrong.
“Someone made it for me…”
“Oh, do you live with your family?”
“No…”
When I faltered, Arai-san seemed to read the room and didn’t press any further.
Relieved, I raised the food to my mouth.
Every dish was delicious.
The rice, which I’d thought was far too much, wasn’t enough, it was that good.
For some reason I felt tears coming, then remembered Arai-san was sitting right in front of me and held them back.
“Have you got used to the work, Morishita-san?”
“Oh, well, more or less.”
“That’s impressive. You come across as someone who handles work coolly!”
“No, not really.”
“I’m sick of it every single day.”
Arai-san?
I almost said it aloud and caught myself.
To me, Arai-san seemed to work more briskly than I did, but apparently I’d been mistaken.
“But I’m glad there’s someone who started at the same time as me. I can’t talk about this stuff with anyone else.”
“I’m glad, then.”
“Ha ha. Are you the type who’s kind in a clumsy way, Morishita-san?”
I had no idea what was funny, but Arai-san clutched her stomach, laughing.
The way she spoke freely, without worrying about how people reacted, reminded me somehow of Fujishiro.
“Shall we have lunch together like this sometimes?”
“Oh, um. Yes.”
When I said so, Arai-san smiled happily, said “Let’s do our best this afternoon” in a more relaxed way of speaking, and left the break area.
I washed the empty bento box properly in the kitchenette, wiped off the water, bundled it up with the furoshiki, and put it away in my bag.