#24: Peach Lady / ep.2
Having heard Shandy’s history from Kuze Fumika, Mikoto finally felt a piece of the mystery settle, at long last putting her at ease.
“So Shandy-san really was human, after all.”
“Yes, well… there was always something not quite of this world about her. Fluent in Japanese, English, German — always wearing a smile you could never tell was warm or mocking. Come to think of it, she once mentioned getting by in French and Italian too, conversationally. My guess is she grew up somewhere around Switzerland. Pure speculation, of course.”
Mikoto tried picturing Shandy in traditional Tyrolean dress, yodeling yo-ho-ho-ho-ho toward the Alps.
Far too surreal an image. Her own thin knowledge of Switzerland offered nothing useful to work with.
“Every member of our guest-service staff works under an alias. HR and Accounting would know real names, of course, but fortunately, they’re also the most tight-lipped, trustworthy staff we have. That’s about the extent of what I know of Charlotte Gabrielle.”
“Did you ever see her outside of work?”
“Personal contact and exchanging contact information are both against policy. And given my senior’s personality besides, she never really spoke about anything personal. Even Iimori-san, the head bartender she was probably closest with, likely doesn’t have her contact information either.”
Shandy had once worked as an assistant bartender at Maverick, shaking cocktails under the name Charlotte Gabrielle. The “connection” she’d mentioned earlier was probably that same head bartender.
Beyond that, Kuze Fumika claimed to know nothing more.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help. Honestly, seeing my senior again after three years came as a surprise to me too.”
“I understand completely. Everything about her is unpredictable. She’s practically a devil in human form.”
“I hadn’t seen that expression on her before. It seems she may have opened her heart to you, Kurosu-sama.”
Laughing “fufu” in that same manner Mikoto had seen somewhere before, Fumika rose and bowed.
“Well then, though I’m reluctant to part ways, I should take my leave. Please call if you need anything — we can arrange most things. For meals, room service or our second-floor main bar are both available; the bar runs until morning.”
“A late-night bar…”
Mikoto trailed off, remembering something. She still hadn’t properly thanked Shandy for handling that whole business with the division head. Tomorrow, dropping by Antiqua to thank her properly would be simple enough — but leaving a debt like that unpaid nagged at her all the same.
“Sorry — when Shandy-san asked you to carry me, how did she seem?”
“How did she seem… The same unreadable expression as three years ago, unchanged. Though I do know which direction she headed.”
Fumika gave a small, wry laugh and gestured downward with her hand.
The late-night bar.
“I’ll go say a quick hello.”
“Yes, allow me to show you the way.”
Accepting the offer, Mikoto left the room.
＊
“Now then, what’ll it be? Shirai Rinko-san.”
Hotel Maverick, second floor. The main bar, Luxual. Unified in warm browns throughout, it was a flawless, textbook authentic bar — a world apart from Antiqua’s dim, low-light hush.
Inside its private room, the opening shots of a battle over Kurosu Mikoto were about to be fired.
“Sorry, could I get a Peach Fizz, please.”
—No. The battle had already begun.
Ignoring Shandy entirely, Rinko placed her order with the bartender who’d come to the private room. Shandy, unbothered in turn, ordered “my usual” without further elaboration.
The bartender gave a small, wry smile, and after a short wait, served the two cocktails to the table.
“A Peach Fizz, and a Shandy Gaff. Enjoy.”
Without so much as a toast, Rinko threw back her Peach Fizz almost like she was drinking away her frustration.
Watching this, Shandy finally broke the silence.
“Mikoto-san usually prefers something less sweet.”
“So you’re saying a Peach Fizz doesn’t suit someone like me?”
“Now, I wonder. I served her a peach cocktail once before — sweetness wasn’t really to her taste. She said she doesn’t care for things that cling.”
“I’m not clinging to anything. Actually — could you stop with the probing remarks? It’s genuinely irritating.”
“Oh, what a shame. And here I was hoping we might enjoy a little game together.”
“A game…?”
Rinko glared, unable to gauge what was actually going on beneath the surface. Shandy met it with a smile impossible to place as either mockery or warmth — “my, how frightening” — and continued.
“Just a little something we play at the shop, the two of us. It’s rather fun, you know, Mikoto-san. Weak, spineless, utterly hopeless — and yet she comes at me every single night trying to win, putting on this face like she’s some composed, gentlemanly adult.”
Rinko let the words wash past her with open contempt written across her face. Of the two of them, this woman was far more deserving of the “dropping hints” label she’d tried to pin on Rinko herself.
“You’re just cornering her for your own entertainment. Pretending to have feelings, unsettling her, toying with her. That’s about as low as a person can get.”
“I’m not toying with her, though? I might, surprisingly enough, be entirely serious.”
Shandy’s eyes opened wide, full-moon round, as she said it. Whether the words came from genuine sincerity, Rinko had no way to tell. She was, to begin with, exactly the type — a liar, always probing at people’s true feelings — that believing a single word out of her mouth felt like a mistake in itself.
“That’s a lie too, I’m sure. Someone who looks down on people the way you do would’ve already confessed outright, wouldn’t she? — enough that Kurosu-san would be on guard against you by now.”
“No, I’m the one being made to wait. Apparently she wants to become an adult worthy of me first.”
“Guiding her, raising her — is that the idea? Ridiculous.”
“Fufu. Precisely that.”
Rinko was, frankly, appalled. Some things simply can’t be fixed by “guiding” and “raising.”
“…Listen. Some things that can’t work, simply can’t work. There are things in this world you have to give up on.”
“You and I aren’t the same. This has nothing to do with you.”
“It has everything to do with me. Kurosu-san is my coworker, my superior… I’ve been watching over her this whole time.”
“Fufu, sounds like something a parent would say. Who do you think you are?”
“I’ll return that exact question to you. If you really care about Kurosu-san, stop confusing her any further.”
“I’ll return that to you as well.”
Unlike Rinko, who let her emotions show plainly, hostile and on edge, Shandy kept up her composed, unbothered smile the entire time.
Neither side gave an inch. The argument ran in parallel lines, going nowhere. Whatever Rinko had hoped to accomplish by trying to persuade her had missed completely — she’d never expected this woman to be quite this difficult to deal with.
Which meant, Rinko decided—
—I have no choice but to take Kurosu Mikoto for myself, before this woman takes her instead.
To keep watching over Mikoto going forward, she’d have to pull her permanently away from this walking showcase of a terrible woman, Charlotte Gabrielle.
“Well? Have I gotten you to take this seriously, Shirai Rinko-san?”
“You’re going to regret handing an advantage to your enemy.”
“Please, do make me regret it. A rivalry in love is only fun with a bit of upheaval, don’t you think?”
Saying so, Shandy laughed her “fufu,” and Rinko felt her anger flare violently.
She refused to let someone who treated love as a game steal away the person she cared for.
Rinko drained her glass and rose to her feet. And then, she declared war.
“That’s the end of this conversation. I hate you.”
“I hear that a lot. I’m a bitter drink, not suited to everyone’s taste.”
“Exactly right. Unfortunately, I don’t think you suit my taste, or Kurosu-san’s. I won’t be seeing you again, ever.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s possible, actually.”
Shandy’s eyes curved into a waxing crescent as she smiled. To Rinko, it looked like nothing but mockery.
“You and I are both loving the same woman, each in our own way. Which means, from now on, whenever her lingering scent clings to us, we’ll each be reminded of the other, standing just behind her. Me, through perfume. You, through the smell of alcohol.”
“What are you even trying to say?”
“There’s no need to make such a frightening face. I don’t actually hate you, you know?”
Nothing but lies, Rinko thought. If she didn’t hate her, there’d be no reason to have grabbed her arm to stop her from touching Mikoto. And she hadn’t just grabbed it — she’d dug her nails in. Faint marks still remained on Rinko’s left arm where Charlotte’s nails had caught her.
“…You may have come to hate me, but I find you interesting. Not as romance or love, of course. You’re much the same, aren’t you? — You care for me too, in your own way.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! I hate you, more than anything!”
“Fufu.”
“What’s so funny?!”
“Because hate, sometimes, is an even stronger, more binding emotion than love. From here on, Rinko-san, you might end up thinking about me even more than you think about Mikoto-san, without meaning to. Is there any better way to toy with someone’s heart than that?”
For the first time, Rinko felt real fear in front of Charlotte Gabrielle.
Not only did this woman see her as barely more than a rival character in some romance game — she’d openly admitted to being interested in her despite the outward rejection, and was now deliberately trying to plant herself in Rinko’s mind, unshakable.
What this woman was doing was — a curse.
“…Is that why you sought me out? To cast a curse — so that every time I think of Kurosu-san from now on, I’ll think of you too?”
“Fufu, now, I wonder. If I really were a witch, don’t you think I’d have already claimed Mikoto-san for myself, ages ago?”
As ever, there was no reading Charlotte’s true intentions from her expression. But at this point, Rinko no longer cared.
This woman wasn’t just hurting Mikoto — she was a witch casting curses onto Rinko herself. To defeat a witch — Rinko cast her memory back, trying to recall what medieval European witch hunts had actually looked like.
Burning at the stake. Crucifixion. Countless other tortures.
Objectively the worst possible outcome, by any measure of humanity or law — but if it meant breaking the curse, it started to sound almost reasonable.
“My, my, what frightening thoughts you’re having. I wouldn’t mind being killed myself, but it would make Mikoto-san sad, so I’d rather you didn’t. There are other ways to break a curse, after all.”
“…What are you even talking about.”
Charlotte raised her now-empty glass. It took Rinko a moment to understand — apparently, this was a gesture requesting a toast.
“The way to break the curse is for you to come to like me too.”
“Are you insane?! There’s no way that’s happening!”
Of course not. She wanted nothing to do with this incomprehensible witch of a woman. Once she’d taken Mikoto back, she’d honestly rather have every memory of this woman erased entirely. There was no way she could ever come to like her.
“Is that so? I think we’d get along rather well, the two of us. Love, in the end, is always wanting what you don’t have. Being drawn to the same person means we’re probably missing the same things too.”
“What you’re missing is consideration for other people. I have plenty of that.”
“Then maybe what you’re missing is a spirit of challenge. Seems like you give up the moment something looks impossible, without even trying. Might want to start back at square one.”
“This woman…”
Rinko had completely lost her composure by now. Swept along by Charlotte’s skillful needling, her own anger turned back against her, she didn’t even notice she’d been thoroughly rolled around in the palm of her hand the entire time.
“Now then — shall we, as two women loving the same woman, deepen our little friendship? With a game Mikoto-san loves dearly, Antiqua-style. Though I imagine someone without much of a challenging spirit might not be up for it.”
“…Fine. I’ll do it. If I win, you back off entirely.”
Charlotte smiled, sharp, and answered “yes.”
“Then if I win, let’s say this: you’ll confess your feelings to Mikoto-san.”
“Why would that follow at all?! That’s not even a fair exchange—”
“It is, though. You telling Mikoto-san your hidden feelings means breaking the very rule you’ve imposed on yourself. The sheep who’s been safely, quietly watching over her from the sidelines suddenly baring wolf’s teeth — that would be the single most painful thing imaginable for you, wouldn’t it?”
There was no telling how deeply this woman could see through her. Charlotte’s amber eyes seemed to read every secret laid bare.
“And besides — exactly as you said yourself, handing an advantage to your enemy. If you’re going to call me a rival, at least stand on the same stage as me. A one-sided fight isn’t any fun.”
“…Understood. I accept the game under those terms. So, what exactly will we be doing?”
What came to Rinko’s mind, somewhat calmer now, was something like rock-paper-scissors, or daifugo, or Othello. She wasn’t confident in rock-paper-scissors, but she might stand a chance at daifugo. First, she’d need to confirm the house rules — was a revolution allowed, could an 8 clear the pile, could you discard unwanted cards on a 10 or skip someone with a 5, could a joker be killed by the three of spades.
Whatever calculations Rinko had been running were blown away in an instant.
“Let’s each say what we love about Mikoto-san. A little love-talk game.”
Charlotte said it in the tone of a girl whose heart was fluttering over her very first crush.