#4: Kiss in the Dark
“Feels like the target demographic’s a bit off, doesn’t it.”
Conference room. The managing director spoke up first, the instant Mikoto finished her presentation.
Meiji Stationery’s Next-Generation Flagship Product Development Project. The new product Mikoto had somehow managed to pull together, under the weight of upper management’s expectations for “youth” and “a uniquely female perspective,” was making its debut in front of the room.
The new product: a thin, monochrome touchscreen device, paperback-book sized, with Bluetooth built in. Using the included stylus to jot notes on the touch panel triggered a semi-automatic sync with a linked smartphone, tablet, or PC, backing the notes up automatically. A digital note-taking gadget, in short.
“Digital gadgets do skew toward a male customer base, that’s true. There are four main reasons women tend not to go for them: the hassle of setup, lack of cuteness, the day-to-day upkeep, and price point.”
All through the presentation, Mikoto had kept careful watch on the managing director’s expression — the one person in the room with actual decision-making power. He’d let her finish without interrupting, but his reaction hadn’t been especially encouraging.
Still, this project was her hard-won brainchild, born out of no small amount of agonizing. Refusing to let her own creation get quietly strangled in the crib, she pushed her explanation forward with real feeling.
“That said, this product only requires one-time Bluetooth setup, same as the wireless earbuds that have become standard in recent years. Making it paperback-sized also means it’s compatible with off-the-shelf book covers for customization. Battery life runs twenty hours, and it supports contactless charging. Going with a monochrome display also helps keep the retail price down.”
“Yes, and I do think that’s genuinely impressive work, Kurosu-san. It’s just…”
The managing director scratched at what little hair remained on his head.
Known around the office as a mild-mannered, well-liked old-timer, he was an analog man through and through, one who’d spent his whole career at Meiji Stationery making pencils and notepads. Pitching him on a digital notetaking device had felt uncomfortable to Mikoto from the start — but without pushing past that discomfort, no real change would ever happen.
“This project doesn’t really play to our strengths. Don’t get me wrong, it’s clearly been thought through carefully, and I can feel how much you care about it, Kurosu-san. You worked hard on this.”
He offered her a mild smile. But Mikoto already knew, from experience, that a smile like that was just the windup before the pitch.
“That said. Speaking from a management standpoint, I can’t really push this forward as our next flagship product.”
“So, then—”
Mikoto swallowed the word shelved before it left her mouth, and the director waved a hand.
“No, no. Let’s bring this idea to one of our partner companies. We may not be able to make the device itself in-house, but I’d bet we could still produce the stylus, or the case.”
“…I see.”
Mikoto forced a vague smile and talked herself into accepting it.
It was true — Meiji Stationery had no real expertise in digital products. However much the company talked about “innovation,” designing a project that didn’t play to the company’s actual strengths had been her own miscalculation.
But whether she’d been handed an impossible brief or not, this project was still the thing she’d wrung out of herself, thought through to the end without complaint. Watching it slip out of her hands, reduced — if it survived at all — to nothing but a handful of minor peripheral parts, felt cruel. It left something hollow behind in her chest.
“Well, go ahead and keep working on other proposals in the meantime, Kurosu-san.”
“…Understood.”
At this point, she thought, it would almost have been kinder if the whole effort had simply come to nothing.
As Mikoto tidied up the conference room afterward, the chime marking the end of the workday seemed to be telling her, try again.
＊
“Ohh. So you struck out at work, is that it.”
“I’m ashamed to say so, yes. Striking out completely might’ve actually stung less.”
Mikoto’s wounded feet had carried her, without much conscious decision, to the girls’ bar Antiqua, tucked into its Roppongi back alley. She hadn’t even been able to keep up with Shandy’s usual clever banter at the door — she’d just unloaded the whole meeting on her, minus anything confidential.
“Well. There’s a way to forget how rough work was, even if just for a moment. Would you happen to know it, Kurosu-sama?”
“Yes, an order, isn’t it?”
Shandy gave a short laugh and propped her elbows on the counter. Her amber eyes drew in close to Mikoto’s, waiting, poised, for tonight’s first order.
If Mikoto leaned in just slightly, she’d be close enough to kiss Shandy outright. Even in Antiqua’s dim light, the glint caught on her glossy lips was visible.
Just then, something occurred to Mikoto.
“Come to think of it, that Martini bet never really got settled, did it.”
“Did it not?”
Shandy smiled, feigning ignorance. That earlier wager over each other’s lips had been, in effect, a fixed match — whoever lost owed the winner a kiss, meaning a kiss was coming regardless of who won. The only real variable had been who’d be doing the offering.
“I fell asleep, so let’s just say I lost, last time. Which means I’d like to go ahead and offer my lips to you, Shandy-san.”
“I don’t mind, coming from you, Kurosu-sama. Assuming you’re actually capable of it, that is.”
Shandy curved her lips into a provocative smile. Composed, glossy, they threatened to pull Mikoto’s gaze in and hold it there.
Leaning forward over the counter, Mikoto decided to offer Shandy her first drink of the night.
“Yes. Then for my first order tonight — a kiss with Shandy-san—”
She let the sentence trail, breathing the words right against Shandy’s ear.
“—no, I mean, a Kiss in the Dark, please.”
“—?!”
Shandy jerked back, her expression lost to Antiqua’s darkness. Still, judging by the reaction, Mikoto allowed herself some quiet satisfaction — she’d landed a hit at last.
“Since I already offered you that kiss, make it a good one, Shandy-san.”
“…What a wicked customer you are, Kurosu-sama.”
“Aren’t you a wicked bartender yourself?”
“You do seem to prefer me wicked.”
Saying so, Shandy let her full-moon eyes shift, as always, into a waxing crescent. Mikoto found herself smiling back in kind.
This was their game — Mikoto and Shandy’s. A dangerous little ritual, repeated night after night between a wicked customer and a wicked bartender, where taking it seriously meant losing.
“Then, allow me. Something wonderfully dirty, and full of hidden meaning.”
Shandy set briskly to work on the first drink.
A Kiss in the Dark was a close cousin to the Martini from before. The difference lay in the gin-to-vermouth ratio, plus the addition of cherry brandy.
Laying all the ingredients out from the fridge onto the counter, Shandy began measuring with the jigger.
“Impressive, as always. Making an amateur’s order without even asking for clarification.”
“Once you’ve memorized the recipes, the ratios, the flavor families, the method more or less picks itself. Shake for things that don’t naturally get along; stir is enough for things that already do.”
“Are you and I a shake, then? Or a stir?”
“Ha, on the offensive tonight, are we, Kurosu-sama?”
“I was hoping to see one of your cuter expressions, Shandy-san.”
“Like this?”
Shandy puffed out her cheeks in an exaggerated pout — the mischievous, sulky-girl face. But tonight, Mikoto wasn’t going to be thrown off so easily.
Shandy was putting on that playful face on purpose, precisely because showing her real feelings was too embarrassing. Which meant one more push might finally win Mikoto the game tonight. Determined to get the better of her at last, Mikoto fired off another round.
“Won’t you answer my question, Shandy-san? What’s your relationship to me?”
“Now, which do you think?”
“I’m playing offense tonight, so no dodging allowed.”
“Then let me ask you something first. Between two people who don’t get along, and two people who do — which makes for the tastier relationship?”
“That’s…”
The unexpected question left Mikoto without a comeback. She wanted to say “don’t answer a question with a question” — but Shandy’s question had given her something genuinely worth thinking about.
Just as alcohols have their own compatibilities, so do people. Cocktails and human relationships alike were built from distinct individual elements, mixed together regardless of whether they naturally suited each other or not.
“No matter what kind of individuality someone carries, mix them together and let them dissolve into each other, and you get a delicious cocktail either way. That’s what I believe, Kurosu-sama.”
“I see…”
“Well, there are genuinely bad matches too, of course. Here at Antiqua, those kinds of customers just don’t come back. So — I’d say it’s more like this: ‘someone I’ve decided I’m glad to be pouring drinks for.’ That’s the relationship between you and me, Kurosu-sama.”
Mikoto quietly took stock of the room. From her privileged seat against the wall, she could make out one male customer, and a group of three at a table further back. They, too, had been chosen by Shandy. The thought sent an odd, unsettled flutter through her chest.
“Disappointed you’re not the only one I’ve chosen?”
Shandy smiled, mischievous. In the same breath, having had the true source of that unsettled feeling laid bare, Mikoto lost her chance to press further.
Of course it stung. Antiqua sat on prime real estate near the station, back alley or not. The rent had to be steep, and liquor costs only climbed. The only reason the place stayed afloat was because Mikoto wasn’t the only customer coming for Shandy’s sake.
There was no reason to think Shandy only had eyes for her. If anything, believing that would be nothing short of arrogance.
“I suppose I wanted you to look only at me.”
“Ha.”
Words she’d meant as her usual joking banter came out carrying a small ache, a hollowness, once she’d actually said them. Mikoto rushed to cover the honesty that had slipped in under the self-deprecating tone.
“Um, is my kiss ready yet?”
“Just about. Finishing touches now.”
Shandy emptied the ice from a long-stemmed cocktail glass and poured in the stirred blend of three spirits. The condensation-beaded glass filled with a reddish-brown hue, colored by the brandy.
“Here you are. A cocktail meant to evoke Antiqua’s darkness and a kiss with you, Kurosu-sama — a Kiss in the Dark.”
Kiss in the Dark.
The origin of the name was unclear, but what it pointed to was plain enough: a kiss in the dark. Fitting, perhaps more than any other drink could be, for the dim, low-light hush of Antiqua itself.
“Cheers.”
Trying to shake off the embarrassment of her earlier moment of presumption, Mikoto brought the glass to her lips.
The first thing her tongue caught was a citrus tartness from the vermouth. Beneath a sourness that called to mind a first kiss, the sweetness and fragrance of cherry brandy spread through her mouth. The gin, which had dominated so completely in the Martini before, played a supporting role here, letting the complex character of the other two spirits carry the drink.
“How is it? The taste of a kiss with me?”
“…Complicated. Sour, and sweet. But there’s something almost smoky in there too. Like the personalities of all three spirits are dissolved into each other.”
“That’s the real pleasure of a cocktail. Different personalities mixing together into something complex. If you and I were to kiss, Kurosu-sama, I imagine it would taste something like this.”
“Not just a sweet kiss, then. There’s something complicated in it.”
Shandy let out a quiet breath before speaking again.
“A grown-up’s kiss always has some public face mixed in, at odds with the honest truth underneath. All sorts of intentions, all sorts of complications. Kiss in the Dark — a kiss in the dark — means a relationship that can’t be brought out into the light.”
“That’s deep.”
“Yes. And it’s in that depth that I keep my real feelings hidden.”
Shandy, who usually never let her smile slip, had worn a serious expression all night, ever since serving the Kiss in the Dark. Her eyes, round as a full moon, kept darting restlessly around the room.
The reason was simple — Antiqua had more customers than usual tonight, a rarity. All five counter seats were nearly full, and Shandy’s gaze kept tracking how empty each customer’s glass had gotten. She fielded one order after another as they came in, occasionally trading a few words with other patrons along the way.
A grown-up’s kiss always has some public face mixed in, at odds with the honest truth underneath.
And it’s in that depth that I keep my real feelings hidden.
Mikoto tried to puzzle out what Shandy had really meant by that, but the moment alcohol took hold, her thoughts scattered apart. She’d never resented her own low tolerance quite this much before.
In the end, Mikoto simply drained the complicated, layered cocktail while daydreaming about actually kissing Shandy, and asked for the check.
She settled the bill and rose from her seat.
The small half-tatami-mat porch connecting Antiqua’s entrance to the street outside sat in genuine darkness. Probably built that way on purpose — so new arrivals couldn’t see the state of the shop inside, letting Shandy politely turn away unwanted customers with a claim of “we’re full tonight.”
“Thank you for coming in tonight, Kurosu-sama.”
In darkness untouched even by the bar’s own dim lighting, Mikoto heard Shandy’s voice. She knew Shandy was close, since she’d just been handed back the coat she’d checked at the door — but she couldn’t make out her expression at all.
“Yes, I’ll be back. Assuming I’m not turned away.”
“I won’t turn you away. Oh, that reminds me — you’re forgetting something.”
“Huh?”
Shandy pointed this out just as Mikoto finished putting her coat on. She patted down her bag, checking for her wallet, her phone — nothing else should have come out of it, since she hadn’t ordered anything else at Antiqua.
“I don’t think I’ve forgotten anything…”
“No, you have. Something’s missing.”
A citrus scent brushed faintly past Mikoto’s nose. An instant later, something soft pressed against her lips.
In the darkness between the entrance and the street, there was no way to make out what was happening right in front of her own eyes. However badly she wanted to see, her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark yet — there was nothing to see.
But not being able to see didn’t mean she couldn’t guess. There was only one person in this darkness capable of something like that, standing frozen where Mikoto now stood.
Her lips were released. The pleasant haze of alcohol burned off in an instant, and Mikoto reeled.
“Wh— what—?”
“Earlier I mentioned you weren’t the only one I’d chosen, but I forgot to mention one thing — that there’s someone rather special among them.”
“Wh-what does that mean—”
Her lips were sealed again. Mikoto could feel the intent behind it — don’t let her say anything more.
“…A Kiss in the Dark with me. You’re the only one I’ve ever served something that isn’t even a real cocktail.”
“Wh—?”
“…And what would you do if I said something like that, Kurosu-sama?”
And then, Shandy laughed, rolling and light, just as she always did.
It was all just one of Antiqua’s little jokes.
That was the message behind her laugh as she pushed open the rough-textured door. Roppongi’s streetlights and neon signs overpowered the darkness at once, lighting up Shandy’s pale skin, now close enough to touch.
“You seem plenty flustered, Kurosu-sama. Shall we call tonight’s game my win?”
“…I think that last part was against the rules.”
“There’s no rule anywhere that says no kissing.”
Watching Shandy’s meaningful smile, Mikoto knew she’d lost. However hard she tried to get the better of her, she ended up rolled around in the palm of Shandy’s hand all the way to the end. Worse, she’d actually been kissed this time, and there was no hiding how shaken she was.
This was supposed to be just a game. A wicked little pastime where taking it seriously meant losing.
Mikoto shut a lid on the feeling welling up inside her and stepped through the door. If she let herself acknowledge it, it wouldn’t even count as a contest anymore.
“…I’ll win next time.”
“Yes, I’ll be looking forward to the rematch.”
—Tonight’s game of love: total defeat for Mikoto.