#25: Peach Lady / ep.3
The Luxual bar, second floor of Hotel Maverick.
Parting ways with Fumika, Mikoto scanned the room. Searching the counter and box seats for any sign of a blonde-haired woman, she found no trace of Shandy anywhere
Already gone, then — too late. Her shoulders sagged slightly, but Luxual was, after all, the bar where Shandy had once trained. Some clue might still be lying around.
“Welcome.”
A bartender with a deep baritone voice offered a gentle smile.
Shown to a counter seat, Mikoto asked, tentative.
“Sorry, I actually had a question I wanted to ask.”
“About Charlotte, perhaps?”
Startled at being read so precisely. This was, presumably, the very head bartender Fumika had mentioned — Iimori. A finely chiseled, narrow face, the kind of age lines that read as their own kind of accessory. Between the bar’s whole atmosphere and Iimori’s gentlemanly bearing, Luxual was authentic through and through.
“That’s exactly right. However did you know?”
“I caught sight of you at the party this evening. I was the one shaking cocktails beside her.”
“Ah — ah, I’m so sorry, I don’t remember at all…”
“No need to worry, it’s practically an occupational habit. The very first thing a bartender learns isn’t how to handle liquor — it’s how to remember a guest’s face. I drilled that into her plenty, back in the day.”
Iimori spoke with the fond air of someone recalling old times.
Picturing Shandy back in her training days brought a faint smile to Mikoto’s own face.
She couldn’t imagine that personality, even back then, taking instruction obediently. Iimori’s hardships were easy enough to sympathize with.
“After three years of silence, she suddenly reached out to me, so I’ll admit I was rather surprised myself. Has my former student been causing you any trouble?”
“That depends on how you’d define ‘trouble,’ but I wouldn’t call it that, personally.”
“I see. Sounds like her old habit of toying with guests hasn’t changed a bit.”
Iimori laughed wryly. Even three years ago, Shandy had probably already been running her business the same way she ran Antiqua now — leaning close to the customers she liked, serving an XYZ to the ones she didn’t.
“Um — would you be willing to tell me about her? Charlotte Gabrielle, I mean.”
“Rather than hearing it from me, why not ask her directly? Take that one along too.”
Iimori’s gaze pointed two seats down the counter.
“Ugh…… sorry…… Sanaeeee……”
A long-haired woman, crumpled and sobbing. A genuinely pitiful sight, but Mikoto recognized her instantly.
“Um, Tōko-san? What’s wrong…?”
“…Kurosu-saaan………..!”
The lovely wife of Yanase Sanae, Yanase Tōko, had drained her glass and was now sobbing openly. Apparently that whole “attending to marital duties, please leave” line had been nothing but a convenient excuse.
“Were you drinking alone this whole time?”
“I kept telling her about you and Charlotte-san’s whole thing, and then Sanae suddenly got angry, and we ended up fighting……”
“Wh— what exactly happened…?”
Mikoto cast her mind back to Tōko’s demeanor back in the waiting room. Now that she thought of it, Tōko had seemed far more invested in Mikoto and Shandy’s relationship than in the actual case being solved.
Tōko forced her hiccuping sobs down.
“We couldn’t agree on whether you or Charlotte-san was the top, and it turned into this whole thing…… Which is it, actually?”
More than embarrassment or irritation at having her private life prodded at, Mikoto felt mostly exhausted disbelief that this was what a married couple had actually fought over. Her head throbbed.
“Please ask her that directly too. She’s in the private room in back.”
Beyond the fact that Sanae and Tōko had apparently been gossiping about her, the truly unnerving part was how unbothered the bartender Iimori remained through all of it — not a flicker of surprise, just calmly continuing to speak in that even baritone. His level of composure wasn’t normal.
“…Um, I’d rather you not misunderstand, so let me say this clearly — Charlotte-san and I aren’t in that kind of relationship, exactly—”
“Not prying too deeply into a guest’s personal affairs is one of the cardinal rules of bartending. Though my former student seems to have no intention of following it whatsoever.”
Directed toward the private room, Mikoto opened the door with a still-clinging Tōko in tow.
Inside: Shandy, blonde hair and amber eyes gleaming — and—
“Why is Shirai-san here…?”
“K-Kurosu-san?!”
—her coworker, Shirai Rinko.
＊
“Fufu. Seems the whole cast has finally assembled. Though there’s one rather odd one among them.”
Iimori hadn’t shown Mikoto and the others to this private room out of pure consideration. More likely, having someone giving off an atmosphere like this around would sour the drinks for everyone else — quarantined, really, would be the more accurate word.
Luxual’s private room was thick with tension. Rinko’s expression was strained to the breaking point; Shandy’s smile carried a sharp edge of its own.
“Sorry for the intrusion…! Oh, but I’ve got no intention of butting into your yuri! Anyone who inserts themselves into a yuri pairing, man or woman, deserves to cut their own stomach open and die, I really believe that — although, actually, a love triangle has its own appeal too! Like, you think it’s straight-up lesbian and it turns out she’s actually bi! I want to be crushed under the weight of some enormous emotion!”
“Mikoto-san, what exactly is this delightfully unhinged married woman talking about?”
“I have no idea either.”
More than that, though, what really nagged at Mikoto was why Rinko was even here in the first place. She remembered making it to the hotel lobby — everything after that was a blank.
“Shirai-san, do you know Shan- Charlotte-san?”
“N-no, that’s not it?! She just said she was an acquaintance of yours, so wanted to grab a drink together—”
“Meow.”
Shandy did an adorable little kitten impression.
Why a cat impression, of all things, right now?
Asking would only earn a deflection anyway. With her ordered Martini arriving just then, Mikoto swallowed the question down along with the drink. Unlike the shaken Martini served at Antiqua, this one carried a pleasantly sharp bite down her throat.
Shandy was the one to break the silence.
“Actually, I’d just invited Shirai-sama to a little game. It’s been quite a long day, so I found myself wanting a bit of a diversion.”
Apparently she’d been planning to run one of Antiqua’s usual games on Rinko. Given every prior game and the open hostility toward Shirai Rinko, Shandy’s malicious intent was plain enough.
“Please don’t tease Shirai-san too much…”
“Oh my. Shirai-sama agreed to take on the game herself, didn’t she? Isn’t that right, Shirai-sama?”
Shandy’s profile spoke volumes. Presumably, exactly as usual, she’d talked circles around Rinko and forced her into agreeing. Rinko, meanwhile, had none of her usual easy composure — flustered, fumbling.
“I did say that, but right now, I—”
“Fufu. Wherever did that earlier bravado go? Like a cat hiding its claws. Meow.”
“I’m not hiding anything — I told you already!”
Rinko had somehow managed a denial, but something about her felt off from her usual self to Mikoto. Between the alcohol and two strangers meeting her for the first time, that was understandable enough, perhaps.
“So, what exactly is this game with Shirai-san?”
Shandy answered with a meaningfully loaded smile.
“A love-talk game — each of us saying what we love about our someone. Falter on your words, or say the same thing as the other side, and you lose.”
“What’s the penalty game?”
“You’ll know once the match is decided. And how fortunate — we happen to have an outside party, Yanase-sama, here. Shall we let her judge?”
“I’ll do it! But wait, Charlotte-san, is this… oh! Does that mean this is a public confession show?! Whoa, seriously?! Eeeeeee!”
Mikoto regretted, needless to say, ever having brought Tōko along.
Because Shandy’s beloved was already an open secret. Whoever Rinko’s someone was remained unknown — but presumably a man.
“…I’ll start, then. Shirai Rinko. What I love is how cool they are, their… well, that.”
“Please explain exactly how they’re cool!”
Merciless toward Rinko’s stumbling was Yanase Tōko, self-appointed judge.
Mikoto sympathized with Rinko, stuck in a total away game against both a hostile opponent and a hostile judge — but this was, after all, just a love-talk game. Nothing like Shandy trying to start a real match with her beloved sitting right beside her.
“Um… They supported me back when I was still new and anxious at work, looked out for me in all sorts of ways… that kind of thing.”
“Office romance! I can’t handle it!”
Listening to this, Mikoto privately thought Tōko herself was probably exactly the same — but there was no room left to make that observation out loud. Once Shandy’s turn came around, Mikoto herself would be catching stray fire.
“What I love is the exact opposite — how adorable they are. Getting embarrassed so easily, being clingy.”
“Um, Shandy-san—”
“Oh my. I’m only talking about my someone. Who’s to say it’s necessarily Mikoto-san?”
Laughing “fufu,” Shandy let her amber eyes shine.
She was a genuine prodigy at humiliating people. Not just her opponent Rinko — now trying to drag Mikoto down with her too.
Mikoto fought to keep her face composed, forcing a mask of calm. She couldn’t let her real reaction show in front of her coworker or Yanase Tōko.
“So it’s… ‘Shamiko,’ huh… Reverse ship… landmine…”
“What’s ‘Shamiko,’ what’s ‘reverse ship’…?”
“Industry terminology. Don’t mind it.”
“What industry is that even from…?”
Watching Tōko’s grinning face, Mikoto decided not to press further. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be anything good.
Shandy’s turn ended; the second round began. Rinko’s turn again.
“How hard they work every day, even when they look busy… makes me want to root for them.”
Rinko’s someone might well be a coworker. Either at Meiji Stationery, or somewhere Rinko had worked before joining mid-career.
If it was at Meiji Stationery, Mikoto found herself running through candidates. Someone who always looked busy — the only person who came to mind was sales’ Aomi Shiina. Same gender, setting aside whether she was actually all that busy.
“Personally, I’ve been thinking of having my someone quit their job and come help out at the shop instead.”
“Absolutely not!”
While Tōko watched, grinning, gauging everyone’s reactions, Rinko reacted with startling intensity for some reason.
“Fufu. Do tell me why not.”
“…Their job might be something important to them, you know! Charlotte-san’s person, I mean!”
“Even if that’s true, I don’t recall giving Shirai-sama any reason to reject the idea on their behalf.”
Shandy smiled, aggressively.
An aerial battle of two people dropping hints at each other. Mikoto had absolutely no idea what maneuvering was actually happening between them.
Rinko swallowed back whatever she’d been about to say, paused for a beat, and moved into the third round.
“I love how kind they are. When I was struggling over how to speak to them, they told me not to worry about it.”
“By the way! Are you and your someone on a first-name basis?”
“…No, just last names, normally.”
“Ahh! The frustrating kind, where you haven’t taken that step yet!”
“I’m not planning to take that step…”
Rinko caught herself again, swallowing the rest.
Something about Rinko was clearly off. Normally she spoke a bit more casually, closer to how a friend would, saying whatever came to mind — but tonight, every word seemed to catch somewhere in her throat.
“I love the kind ones too, myself. Indecisive, but genuinely thoughtful about me. What do you think of someone like that, Mikoto-san?”
“I suppose that’s… nice?”
Embarrassing enough to make her teeth ache. Mikoto rushed to drain her Martini, hoping the alcohol would cover for her. If her face flushed red from drink, at least no one would notice the real cause underneath.
Fourth round. Rinko collapsed face-first onto the table.
“Surrendering already, Shirai-sama? Care to accept defeat gracefully and take your penalty?”
“…I’m not losing.”
But Rinko pushed herself back up. Measured against Mikoto’s own track record against Shandy, Rinko was putting up a genuinely respectable fight. Whatever embarrassment had colored her expression earlier had vanished; her tightly pressed lips now radiated pure fighting spirit.
She really must want to beat Shandy badly.
“Hey, Shirai-san. You don’t need to get this worked up over just a little game. Charlotte-san’s a sore loser and kind of twisted, but she’s not a bad person.”
“…It’s fine. I’ll protect them.”
—Mikoto had tried to step in and stop things, but Rinko clearly intended to see the match through.
More pressing, though, was the actual content of the penalty game. If Rinko was talking about “protecting” someone, whatever was being wagered probably had something to do with Mikoto. That much she could vaguely piece together — but the actual substance of it remained a mystery.
Rinko drew a breath and spoke.
“I want to protect them. They’re blessed with good looks, but maybe exactly because of that, they’ve had a hard time of it — I don’t want them hurt any further. I don’t want them caught by some awful woman… I want to shelter them, as much as I possibly can…”
Less a statement of what she loved than a raw confession of feeling. Whoever Rinko cared for this deeply, Mikoto thought, was genuinely fortunate.
In turn, taking in Rinko’s outpouring, Shandy offered her own answer.
“What I want is to raise them up. If they wish to change, if they’re trying to change — I want to give them even the smallest push forward. Even if, once changed, they end up leaving me behind entirely — nipping the bud of someone who genuinely wants to grow would still be wrong.”
What welled up in Mikoto’s chest was guilt, over how long she’d been making Shandy wait. Of course, there was still a chance this “someone” of Shandy’s wasn’t her at all — but Shandy had said it herself, once before.
—If it doesn’t work out, feel free to throw me away.
Shandy was a strange one.
Whispering love with total confidence, while so casually neglecting herself. Going out of her way, connections or not, risking real trouble simply to help Mikoto.
Call it love, maybe, and leave it at that. The same way Tōko — already retired from Hibiya, an outsider by then — had slipped into the party just to help her wife, Sanae.
But was that really all it was? Just love, plain and simple?
Mikoto turned it over.
If she herself never came around to Shandy’s feelings, what would Shandy do?
Would she find someone else, and approach them exactly the same way she had Mikoto?
The moment she pictured it, she was startled by how unpleasant the thought made her feel.
“How embarrassing, isn’t it, fufu.”
“Whose fault do you think that i-is?!”
The instant Shandy and Rinko had finished speaking, the sound of quiet sobbing reached them. Tōko, seated directly across from Mikoto, had her hand pressed over her eyes for some reason.
“Both your loves are so huge… I get both sides… I get it too much to pick a winner…”
“Seems we chose the wrong judge, didn’t we?”
Shandy stuck out her tongue slightly and laughed. Judge Yanase Tōko’s empathy skills, apparently, ran off the charts. Setting the actual verdict entirely aside, she’d worked herself into a fit of sympathetic tears purely on her own.
This match had turned into a total stalemate. With neither side willing to concede, there was no point pushing further.
“Given the state Tōko-san’s in, shall we call it a draw?”
“But I still…”
Cutting off Rinko mid-sentence, Shandy let out a sigh.
“Well, it would be rather dull to settle this in just a single round anyway. Shirai-sama doesn’t seem quite ready in her heart yet, either. I’m fine calling this a draw.”
“Is that all right with you too, Shirai-san?”
“…If Kurosu-san says so.”
Rinko’s frustration eased somewhat. The clock read eleven at night — right around when the last train started weighing on everyone’s mind. Mikoto and Tōko could simply stay at the hotel, but the other two didn’t have that luxury.
“I’m heading home. Take care, Kurosu-san.
“Yeah, thanks for coming out, Shirai-san.”
Rinko rose, cast one glance back at Shandy, and spoke.
“…I don’t think I lost, for the record.”
“Yes, let’s play again sometime. Peach Lady.”
The instant Rinko left, Tōko’s phone rang. “It’s Sanae!” she cried, hesitating briefly over whether to answer before finally picking up. Putting on an angry front at first, her expression melted almost instantly into something soft and radiant. They’d apparently made up.
“Ehehehe~. Sanae’s calling for me, so I’ll head off now~.”
Beaming with pure, unguarded happiness, Tōko left behind far more money than the tab actually called for and departed.
“Truly, blissfully lovestruck, isn’t she? What does she even see in a woman like that?”
“…Are you heading home too, Shandy-san?”
“No. It’s been a while since I’ve had a proper night at Luxual — I think I’ll drink until morning. Iimori-san’s a man, but playing against him isn’t half bad either. Unlike a certain someone, he actually puts up a decent fight.”
“About that, actually…”
Mikoto wasn’t sure herself why she wanted to say what came next. It wasn’t that she distrusted Shandy, or Iimori for that matter — but the idea of Shandy playing her games with anyone besides herself nagged at her all the same.
Steeling her resolve, Mikoto spoke.
“…The room I’m staying in tonight, for some reason, has two beds. And even one alone is a large double, at that. Using something like that all by myself feels almost like it’d bring bad luck.”
“How troubling. And so?”
Shandy, naturally, answered with a “fufu.”
Waiting for Mikoto’s next words.
“If, by some chance, you get tired of drinking and games and find yourself with nothing to do — I wouldn’t mind sharing the other bed with you.”
“Oh my, quite high-handed of you, aren’t you? Considering it was simply given to you as a reward.”
“My apologies. I won’t force the issue. If you don’t need it, that’s perfectly fine by me too, Shandy-san.”
However hard she tried her hand at push-and-pull, she was still no match for Shandy. In suggestive conversation and gesture alike, Shandy remained, overwhelmingly, the composed adult woman Mikoto pictured in her own mind.
“Do say it plainly, won’t you. What is it you’d like from me, Mikoto-san?”
Amber eyes curved fully into a waxing crescent, Shandy toyed and teased. Simply having her attention, her gaze, turned fully onto her was, for some reason, deeply reassuring.
“That’s, um…”
“Do you want to be loved? Or do you want to love?”
“Ngh…”
“Fufu, understood. I’ll stay the night, then.”
Relief at being accepted, yes — but a separate matter remained. She’d invited her to share the bed, but hadn’t yet worked up the nerve for that.
“Just, um…”
“I know. No need to make a woman say it outright.”
With that, Shandy sealed Mikoto’s lips. “It’s been quite a day,” she murmured — longer, more intense than usual. Breath, tongue, saliva tangling together, bodies pulled close, the kiss stretching on.
The moment their lips parted, Mikoto’s head went hazy. Nothing like the kiss Sanae had taken from her. Nothing like any kiss she’d shared with a past partner either. Not something explainable simply by “Shandy’s good at kissing.”
If there was a problem here, it lay with the one receiving the kiss — Mikoto herself.
Ah. I really do—
“Just a kiss is fine, isn’t it?”
“…Hai.”
“Fufu, this brings back a certain game, doesn’t it.”
Draining their glasses together, Mikoto and Shandy brought their long day to a close.