#19: Black Velvet / ep.1
At a company the size of Hibiya Trading, even a simple competition results announcement turned into a full hotel party. Mikoto could only marvel at just how far the scale of it all outstripped her own company.
The Hibiya Group’s New Product Competition, final selection round.
“Thank you for having me, Yanase-san.”
“Thank you for coming. You must be Takahashi Marina, from AdHolic — right this way.”
Greeting Sanae at the reception desk, Mikoto was shown to the waiting room as someone else entirely. Inside the small, six-mat room, a woman was already seated — an employee ID badge hanging from her neck marked her, presumably, as someone connected to the company.
“Sorry for the trouble, Kurosu-san.”
“So today I’ll be going by ‘Takahashi Marina,’ is that right?”
“Yes.” Sanae answered curtly and handed over an employee ID — complete, thoughtfully enough, with a fake photo. Shandy had joked about this feeling like a spy movie, but at this point, it genuinely was one.
“The person you’ll be playing, Takahashi Marina, is a new hire at our subsidiary ad agency, AdHolic — invited to the party to study how project pitches work. If anyone presses you, just deflect with ‘I’m new, I wouldn’t know.’”
“So I need a full backstory. What about birthday, blood type? Personality, romantic history?”
The joke, thrown out with a bit too much momentum, was ignored flawlessly. Sanae gave off the general impression of seriousness wearing a human body. Tension radiated off her.
Sanae gestured toward the woman who’d been waiting in the room beforehand.
“Allow me to introduce — this is my subordinate, Saitō—”
“No, no. Use my real name, please. It’d be rude for me to be the only one lying.”
“But—”
“That a problem, Sanae?”
Sanae let out a sigh and corrected the introduction.
“This is Yanase Tōko. A former senior colleague of mine at Hibiya, since retired. Currently, she’s my… wife.”
“Wife?”
Mikoto glanced back and forth between the two of them, wondering if she’d misheard. Sanae, humorless as ever, wore a visibly uncomfortable expression, while Tōko simply smiled brightly.
“Does that convince you? About Sanae, I mean.”
Matching rings glinted on both their fourth fingers, identical in design. Apparently, no joke after all.
“Ah — ah, right. I see, I see?”
Whatever backstory she’d been halfway through building for Takahashi Marina evaporated entirely from her head. People really do go blank when shocked enough.
“In any case,” Sanae continued, clearing her throat awkwardly.
“The target is somewhere among the forty employees in the main office’s planning department. Draw information out of them without raising suspicion, and identify the culprit.”
“F-forty people, one by one?”
“We’ll narrow it down somewhat on our end, but plan on that being the general approach. We’ll continue once we’re in the venue.”
With the brief briefing concluded, Mikoto stepped into the venue as Takahashi Marina.
Hotel Maverick, Grand Reception Room.
Blending into the wallflower crowd along the edge of the great hall, Mikoto surveyed her surroundings. What caught her eye: the buffet area, tall standing tables set up for the reception, a small bar counter serving drinks and alcohol.
And a crowd of employees, chatting away, none the wiser that they were under suspicion.
Somewhere in this crowd was the project thief trying to ruin her.
She had to find them. Had to win this battle of wits. For her own sake, for the company’s sake — and for Shandy’s sake too, who’d drained a Tovarich over a matter that had nothing to do with her at all.
Setting her lips firmly, refusing to let herself flinch, Mikoto renewed her resolve.
That was exactly when she caught a faint scent of orange. Turning around—
“Oh my, what a coincidence. Should I be calling you… Marina-san, tonight?”
—a white jacket, blonde hair pulled back, amber eyes.
Antiqua’s proprietress, Shandy, stood there smiling.
“Wh-what are you doing here?! Sh—”
“Quiet, please. Won’t you?”
Giving a small nod toward the male bartender shaking a cocktail at the bar counter, Shandy held out a business card.
“Tonight, I’m Charlotte Gabrielle. Feel free to call me Shirley.”
“Th-that’s not what I meant! Why is Sh-Shirley-san even here?!”
“I happen to have a little connection. Came in through entirely proper channels, as part-time hired help. A bartender.”
“Wha—?!”
Shandy’s voice dropped to a sly, cat-like purr, careful not to carry beyond the two of them.
“Didn’t I say it? The only one allowed to defeat you is me. And it’s rather cold of you, not inviting me to such a fun-looking game, don’t you think, Marina-san?”
“You could end up in real danger too, you know!”
“Oh my? Aren’t you the one in more danger here than I am?”
“That’s… true, but…”
The hall doors closed. Shandy stepped back swiftly, putting on a show of focusing on her work.
In the spot Shandy had just vacated, Tōko appeared.
“Sanae’s stuck emceeing, so she can’t move around much. But we’re connected by earpiece, so come find me if anything comes up.”
An earphone cord trailed from Tōko’s ear.
Probably Sanae’s own idea — everything about this operation was thorough, down to the smallest detail. Whatever poor soul the culprit turned out to be, they had Mikoto’s sympathy, being hunted down by someone this relentless, even as an opponent.
“What exactly is Yanase-san, anyway?”
“Um, which one?”
Right — both of them shared the same surname now. Confusing.
Mikoto gestured toward the one currently adjusting the microphone on stage — Yanase Sanae.
“Sanae’s in General Affairs, you know.”
“Ordinary General Affairs doesn’t do work like this.”
“Well, it is unusual, I’ll admit. Sanae’s been exceptional since her new-hire days — mastered a full training program in three days, designed Hibiya’s entire security system…”
Mikoto recalled the state of Hibiya’s headquarters — a security system that demanded a card key for literally everything, allowing for zero compromise. Told that Sanae had designed it herself, that almost obsessive level of security suddenly made a lot more sense.
“So honestly, I don’t even know exactly what Sanae’s doing these days. Probably working as some kind of internal troubleshooter, same as when she helped out with my own work.”
Tōko murmured this with a faintly nostalgic air, then let out a sigh.
“Sanae pushes herself too hard. Always taking on impossible things to live up to someone’s expectations. She won’t listen when I warn her about it — she’s collapsed from overwork more than once or twice.”
“Is that why you married her? Out of worry?”
“Pretty much. I wanted to help her, save her, that kind of thing. But honestly, I mostly just feel like I’m the one causing her trouble. She’s brilliant — almost too good for someone like me.”
Something in the way Tōko spoke about Sanae, faintly frustrated with herself, overlapped uncomfortably with Mikoto’s own feelings.
—Don’t worry. I’ll protect you, Mikoto-san.
Tōko’s worry was the same as Mikoto’s own.
In thinking, in knowledge, in experience, even in the sheer resolve it took to love someone — Mikoto fell short of Shandy by every measure, and yet her heart had been thoroughly, hopelessly captured all the same.
Even now, Mikoto couldn’t quite believe she measured up to Shandy at all.
“…But then again, maybe I’m the only one who worries about something this pointless.”
“Pointless? What do you mean?”
“Ah, well, this is a little embarrassing, but…”
Tōko said it with a bashful smile.
“…Sanae only ever shows me her real smile. So I figure — if I can be a place where someone who works this hard gets to set her burdens down, even for a moment, then maybe that means I’m helping her too, in my own way.”
Tōko was, in every possible sense, the polar opposite of Sanae.
Leaving with “back to duty, then,” Tōko vanished into the crowd. In her place, Shandy’s voice came, laced with suspicion.
“…Who was that blissfully love-drunk woman just now?”
Mikoto hadn’t wanted to drag Shandy into this any further — but at this point, they were already in it together. She decided to share what she knew.
“An ally. That emcee — Yanase Sanae’s wife. Yanase Tōko.”
“Oh my, how lovely. Makes me want us to hurry up and start collaborating too, you know.”
“We’re doing that right now, aren’t we?”
“No — not that kind.”
Shandy took hold of the ring finger on Mikoto’s left hand. The moment she caught the implication of that kind of collaboration, Mikoto’s face flooded with heat.
“Ha. You’ve gone quite red, Marina-san.”
“…D-don’t tease me right now, please. This is serious.”
“Right, of course. So, any leads on the culprit?”
Mikoto turned her gaze toward the largest crowd in the room — presumably Hibiya Trading’s own headquarters planning department.
“Somewhere among the forty people in the main office planning department, apparently.”
“How exactly do you plan to shake a group that large?”
“That’s…”
Realizing she hadn’t thought that far ahead, Mikoto’s words caught in her throat.
＊
—Hibiya’s planning department has an odd custom.
She remembered it now: yesterday, during her meeting with Sanae.
“Sorry, Yanase-san — why can’t we just identify the culprit ahead of time? Usually you’d put your name on a proposal, wouldn’t you?”
“Company rule states a proposer can’t come forward until their project’s officially been selected. On top of that, our planning department staff are a nest of secretive schemers, every one of them scrambling to outdo the others. None of them talk about their own projects to anyone.”
“Then couldn’t we wait until the culprit’s project gets recognized, and move in then?”
“That won’t work in time. We’re currently holding off Legal through some personal favors, but once a decision’s made, they’ll have no choice but to act. We need to identify the culprit and extract a confession before the selection is finalized.”
“How, exactly…?”
“That’s precisely what I’m still working out, and it’s proving… difficult.”
“H-how about this, then! What if I bring up the project myself and gauge everyone’s reactions?”
“That would only put the culprit on guard. And consider this too — whoever we’re dealing with is shameless enough to do anything for a promotion. There’s no telling what they might do.”
“Th-then what if I got up on stage and announced, ‘someone here stole a project!’—”
“As I already mentioned, proposals are anonymous. If our opponent were foolish enough to step forward honestly after a public accusation, I wouldn’t be having this much trouble.”
Sanae had only scratched her head at every one of Mikoto’s questions. Even someone as sharp as her hadn’t landed on a workable plan—
＊
Having relayed yesterday’s details, Shandy fell silent. Mikoto glanced sideways, half-expecting even Shandy to be stumped this time. Her amber eyes had settled into a waning crescent moon, half-lidded, gazing off at something distant — the look of a Buddha statue seeing straight through everything at once.
“…I’ve got it. Just have the culprit confess to their own achievement, willingly.”
“That’s… easy for you to say, but…”
Her hand was taken. Fingers interlaced tightly, Shandy spoke in a genuinely serious tone.
“You have my word, I’ll protect you. I won’t let anyone lay a hand on you.”
“That’s reassuring to hear, at least.”
“Ha. Feeling like making me your wife yet?”
“That’s…”
Their interlocked fingers tightened.
Weighing Shandy’s offer against her own unresolved indecision, still, no answer came.
“Well, never mind that for now. I’ve thought of one method — though it’ll need both Yanase-samas’ cooperation.”
“Really?! What is it?”
“I’ll explain later. For now, please focus on hunting down our suspicious character.”
The lights dimmed. Yanase Sanae’s voice, now settled at the moderator’s podium, rang out across the hall — the opening address.
“My apologies for interrupting your conversations. We’ll now begin the final selection round of this year’s New Product Competition. I’ll be serving as your host — Yanase Sanae, from General Affairs. Thank you for your cooperation.”
Amid a wave of applause, the game had finally begun.
Sanae’s voice, from the podium, began explaining the selection round’s purpose.
From the twenty finalist proposals, five outstanding entries would be chosen for recognition.
The five would be selected on the spot by the executives in attendance.
Once selected, a project team would be formed immediately and put into action.
One by one, Sanae briefly introduced each of the twenty finalist proposals.
Among them was the stolen project itself — the Digital Memo Gadget. Selling points, product specifications, all of it nearly identical to Mikoto’s own. Seeing her own project make it through a top-tier company’s competition should have been a source of pride — which made the theft all the more unforgivable.
Cold, contemptuous, Shandy spat out under her breath.
“Stealing something someone worked so hard to create — what a rotten person.”
Mikoto nodded quietly. The digital memo was her most treasured achievement.
Something she’d built, gasping under the weight of upper management’s unreasonable demands, with everything she had — practically a child of her own making. And the culprit hadn’t just stolen it; they were trying to pin the crime of theft on her, too.
“I’m going to catch them, no matter what. For your sake too.”
“Yes, I feel exactly the same.”
The two of them gripped each other’s hands tightly. Strength seemed to flow through the connection between them.
The tension drained away. A hunger for victory, and anger at the sheer injustice of it all, pushed Mikoto’s feelings forward.
Mikoto let out a small breath and smiled.
“I’ve got my composure back, thanks to you.”
“Ha. Seems I’ve done my duty as your devoted wife, then.”
“Yes, admirably so. I feel reassured, no matter when this role of ours ends.”
“Oh my. There’s that usual composure of yours again, isn’t it? Putting on airs really does suit you best.”
“Then, since I’m already putting on airs, would you hear my honest feelings too?”
“Please, go ahead. Sweep me off my feet.”
Meeting Shandy’s smiling, waxing-crescent gaze, Mikoto squeezed her hand back.
“I’ve never trusted anyone this much before. Never felt this glad to have someone by my side, or wanted so badly for them to stay there, going forward.”
“Eh…?”
“I’ll admit it. I like you. Shirley — no, Shandy-san.”
Shandy said nothing.
As if to fill the silence, Mikoto pressed on.
“It’s just… the way I am right now, I don’t feel like I measure up to you at all. I said I had my composure back, but I’m still shaking. I’m terrified I won’t be able to get through this trial in one piece.”
“I noticed. But I—”
“No, wait. Please.”
She cut Shandy off. Shandy would surely say something like it’s fine even if you’re still afraid — and that wasn’t good enough. That would only put more weight on Shandy’s shoulders.
Tōko had laughed off her own worry as pointless — but that was because she’d already become the place Sanae came home to.
Mikoto, right now, was still nothing more than a treasured regular customer to Shandy. Nothing more than that.
“I want to put your mind at ease. I never want you to go back to being alone, Alice, ever again. So…”
“I-I see…”
Listening to the faint unsteadiness in Shandy’s voice, Mikoto waited for Sanae to finish emceeing. Once the last project had been introduced and the lights came back up, the hall filled with the buzz of conversation once more.
“Would the selection committee please make their way to the adjoining room. Everyone else, please continue enjoying the reception in the meantime.”
Sanae set down the microphone. The hall doors opened, and Hibiya’s assembled executives — the selection committee — filed out into the next room. The instant they did, a long line formed at the bar counter, employees clamoring for drinks.
“…My apologies. I need to get back to work. And you?”
“I’ll start hunting for the culprit. I’ll come find you if anything comes up—”
As Mikoto turned to leave, Shandy caught her hand, gripping tight.
“If you want to put my mind at ease, then win this game.”
Seeing Shandy’s cheeks flushed red, Mikoto let out a wry smile.
“I’ll win. I’ve got the goddess of victory on my side, after all.”