#69: Rosa Rossa / ep. 2
Hibiya Trading, meeting room.
For Mikoto, it was the interview room for her Hibiya Trading interview.
Or, as it was otherwise known, the Interview Game.
Mikoto sat on one side of a long table that could seat six. Opposite her sat the interviewers, Sanae and Kurumi.
And for some reason, sitting in the middle was Shandy, dressed in a business suit.
“What are you doing here, Shandy-san…?”
“Oh my, oh my. This is an interview, isn’t it? Kurosu-sama. Is that really how you should be speaking?”
“No, but this is ridiculous! Sanae-san, she’s an intruder!”
“I authorised her entry and had Akazawa show her in. Incidentally, she is also one of the interviewers.”
“Let’s have some fun, Mi-chan?”
Shandy, seated in the middle of the long table opposite Mikoto, and Kurumi, sitting to her left, both wore smiles positively dripping with malice.
Those two were geniuses when it came to putting people on the spot. Shandy, at least, had some restraint where Mikoto was concerned. Kurumi had neither restraint nor consideration.
And to Shandy’s right sat Sanae, presumably the mastermind pulling all the strings behind the scenes. She gestured for Mikoto to take her seat.
“Welcome to the final interview for our company. Shall we begin, Kurosu-san?”
“Final…?”
“The first and last interview. I told you, I want to work with you. Though I should point out that I am in General Affairs, while you are scheduled to join the Planning Department.”
“There’s a nice empty seat where that man who went to hell used to sit~.”
Mikoto finally understood what was happening.
Kosugi was gone, leaving the head of the Planning Department position vacant. That meant a new head would be promoted from within the Planning Department, creating a vacancy further down the chain. Sanae was trying to slip Mikoto into that vacancy.
Whether it was Sanae’s way of being kind to her or her desire to climb the corporate ladder, Mikoto could understand either motivation.
But the prospect of continuing to work in planning cast a dark cloud over her heart.
“Planning…”
As though speaking the words Mikoto couldn’t quite bring herself to say, Sanae began.
“I have heard about your job search from Charlotte. Apparently you have been ignoring your previous achievements and choosing work outside planning.”
“Yes, well. I have a trauma associated with planning. I think Sanae-san, Shandy-san… and Akazawa-san all know about it.”
“Kosugi has gone to hell, and Akazawa has fallen under my command. There is no one left who intends to bring you down, is there?”
“…………”
Kurumi grinned and waved at Mikoto.
Sanae might say she was harmless, but even if Mikoto could trust Sanae, she could never bring herself to trust Kurumi.
Kurumi had forcibly stolen a kiss from her, blackmailed her with photographs, made her bow and apologise on her knees, and in the exhibition dance had done nothing but trip her up.
To tell her to simply forget that humiliation was fundamentally impossible.
“Your trauma concerning Hibiya itself probably won’t go away. That is my failure as well. I sincerely apologise.”
“…Yes.”
“But that is not the issue. What I am asking you, Kurosu-san, is whether your trauma concerning planning has gone away.”
Hibiya itself, and the work of planning.
Even after somehow separating those two issues in her mind, Mikoto still had one solid reason why she could not, and did not want to, continue in planning.
So she silently shook her head.
“That means there must be a reason, other than Kosugi and Akazawa, why you cannot do planning work here. You will answer me.”
Sanae’s interrogation was utterly ruthless.
She had brought Kurumi in to stir up Mikoto’s trauma. Then, immediately afterwards, she had separated the problem of Kurumi and Kosugi from it, forcing the real reason Mikoto didn’t want to continue in planning into the open.
“You really are willing to use such underhanded tactics…”
Sanae furrowed her brow as though breathing itself had become difficult.
“I do feel bad about it. You may hate me if you wish. I am accustomed to being hated.”
“Sanae-san has been working behind the scenes for you ever since she heard that you were being laid off.”
For once, Shandy came to Sanae’s defence.
Her amber eyes were tinged with sadness.
Shandy and Sanae had clearly been conspiring together from the beginning, coordinating their words without even needing to look at one another.
So much for the Moratorium Game, Mikoto thought.
Maybe this was the plan from the very beginning.
“…Hibiya is impossible for me. Unlike you, Sanae-san, I don’t have the education.”
Mikoto resisted.
She absolutely could not work in planning.
She mustn’t.
Because if she did, she would only cause trouble for countless other people.
“Education, is it…?”
That argument should have silenced Sanae, an exceptionally talented woman from an elite academic background.
It was a dirty trick.
But while Sanae fell silent, Kurumi laughed.
“Education doesn’t matter, does it~? Just look at me and you’ll know that, won’t you~?”
Kurumi had ingratiated herself with Kosugi and slipped into the company through the back door.
It was an extreme example, but Kurumi herself was proof that you could get by without much education.
Sanae’s whole setup was so annoyingly competent that Mikoto couldn’t help resenting it.
“…………”
“Hehe. ‘I don’t have the education’ is a lie, isn’t it? After five years as a working adult, you should know perfectly well that academic qualifications have nothing to do with being good at your job.”
There had actually been fewer university graduates than non-graduates at Meiji Stationery.
The skilled craftsmen there worked diligently every day, regardless of their educational backgrounds.
For Mikoto, it was painful to think that her salary had not been all that different from theirs despite how quickly they worked and how little she herself had been able to contribute.
“Well, it’s time you came clean. Mikoto-san, why don’t you want to do planning?”
With all three of them blocking every possible escape route, Mikoto could no longer even manage her usual adult facade.
All she could do was expose herself as she truly was, a twenty-seven-year-old who was far too childish for her age.
“I… lack confidence. In my planning ability, I mean… in my ability to do work in general…”
Silence.
The three interviewers silently instructed her to continue, and Mikoto struggled to get the words out.
“…I can’t work across departments like Sanae-san. I can’t charm people through communication like Shandy-san. And Akazawa-san…”
I don’t want to use my looks to manipulate people.
“Say something. You’re hurting my feelings~.”
“…Anyway. I have no achievements. In these five years, I’ve accomplished nothing…”
It was a long silence.
Mikoto couldn’t bring herself to look at Shandy, Sanae, or Kurumi.
She simply sat there, quietly watching the hands resting on her thighs tremble slightly.
It was Sanae who finally broke the silence with a quiet breath.
“I’ll be honest. I envy your height, and your beauty.”
Sanae was always abrupt.
There was presumably a perfectly logical chain of reasoning inside her head, but to Mikoto there was absolutely no connection between what had come before and what she had just said.
“Does that have anything to do with this…?”
“Yes.”
Sanae answered briefly, looking down slightly, and pressed her index finger against her temple.
She looked as though she were considering what she ought to say.
When she finally spoke, her voice came out slightly higher than usual.
“…This is personal. But I used to feel that I wasn’t a match for Toko. I’m short, and I have no curves. I don’t possess the sort of qualities generally considered feminine. I have a baby face too, and old people mistake me for a middle-school student.”
“No, that’s not…”
It was true enough that Mikoto had automatically tried to reassure her.
But Sanae gave a wry smile.
Few attempts at reassurance could be more unconvincing than one from Kurosu Mikoto.
“Nothing could be less convincing than reassurance from you, Kurosu-san.”
“Sorry…”
“It’s fine. Anyway, as I said, I’m a little runt. But Toko is completely different. She possesses everything I lack. We don’t seem remotely matched.”
“You should tell Toko-san that.”
“I’ve told her many times already, so it’s nothing new, but…”
Sanae’s normally sullen expression took on the faintest hint of colour.
“…my feelings have changed somewhat now. Toko accepted me as someone who was lacking.”
“Even you, Sanae-san, are lacking…?”
“Everyone is lacking in something. There is no such thing as a perfect human being. Even your fiancée has countless flaws.”
“Oh, that’s cruel. You’ll make me cry.”
“That habit of making jokes when someone is having a serious conversation is a prime example.”
Mikoto still couldn’t understand what Sanae was trying to say.
“…Um, Sanae-san, what exactly are you getting at?”
“After all that, you still don’t understand…?”
Sanae sighed deeply and glared at Mikoto through lowered eyes.
“…I’m telling you that I recognise the ability you believe you lack.”
“But I…”
“Enough. You can do your job. You have the ability to get two projects through in a short period of time. If you recognise my abilities, then recognise my ability to judge people, and my nose for talent. And recognise your own abilities.”
Sanae’s trust hurt.
So did Mikoto’s own lack of confidence, her inability to muster the courage to live up to that trust.
As Mikoto sat silently, unable to answer, Kurumi’s nasal voice delivered another blow.
“Sanae-chan hardly ever compliments anyone, you know~? She’s never complimented me even once. And I’m the sort of person who blossoms when you praise me~.”
“You simply have nothing worth praising.”
Sanae cut her off flatly and continued.
“Trust me, Kurosu-san. Nothing bad will happen to you. And if it does, I will take responsibility.”
“Hehe. Is Sanae-san proposing to my Mikoto too?”
“I told you not to make fun of me. Besides, Kurosu-san is nowhere near Toko.”
“Blind love~.”
While Shandy continued to tease her playfully, Sanae remained utterly serious in her faith in Mikoto.
She was telling Mikoto that the very ability Mikoto herself couldn’t trust was something she was needed for.
“Why are you going this far for me…?”
“For my career advancement. Kurosu-san’s planning ability will bring profits to Hibiya.”
“You’ve ruined your own argument there, Sanae-san. If you want to persuade Mikoto-san, perhaps you should be honest too.”
One corner of Sanae’s mouth lifted.
It looked cynical and sardonic, but perhaps she was simply bad at smiling and embarrassed.
“Because I want to bless the two of you. As a friend, and as a married woman.”
“Would that satisfy this woman?”
“Yes. I’m very satisfied. Especially because I got to tease Sanae-san.”
“…One day I’ll destroy you.”
“Well then. Mikoto-san? Having heard Sanae-san’s argument, have you changed your mind?”
Her amber eyes narrowed into a crescent shape.
Shandy’s tone had the testing quality peculiar to her Games.
“…I’m happy to hear Sanae-san feels that way, but I still don’t have enough ability.”
Even if someone pulled her upright by force, if she was too frightened to put weight on her legs, she couldn’t stand.
Mikoto knew Sanae was speaking from the heart.
Once she understood that Sanae’s earlier actions had been motivated by a desire to persuade her, even the distrust she had initially felt began to fade.
But Mikoto was no longer young enough to be transformed by words alone.
She hated herself, this half-grown person who was somehow both adult and child.
“Mi-chan, you’re stubborn, aren’t you~? I thought you were a much simpler creature~.”
Being told the truth by Kurumi of all people made Mikoto leap to her feet.
“Of course I’m worried! It’s Hibiya, for goodness’ sake! Can I really work for a company like this when I don’t have the ability!?”
“But you actually made something, didn’t you? Let me see it. This work you poured your heart and soul into, Mikoto.”
Shandy took the Digital Memo from Sanae and examined it closely.
She opened and closed it, looked at it from a distance, then held it close.
Apparently satisfied, she smiled gently.
“After seeing the finished product, how do you feel, Mikoto-san?”
“…I don’t think it’s bad. I’m grateful to everyone who worked on it. I’m happy that so many people helped turn it into something real, but… A project from someone as lacking in ability as me must have caused everyone a lot of trouble…”
“If you have that feeling, perhaps you already have enough ability?”
“Huh…?”
Just as she did when seducing customers from behind the counter at antiqua, Shandy propped her chin on both hands and gazed at Mikoto.
Under the gaze of a beauty who seemed simultaneously girlish, bewitching, doll-like, and the sum of all three, Mikoto swallowed her words.
“As a special treat, I’ll tell you a story from my past.”
“But that…”
“It’s fine. It isn’t anything particularly impressive. Hehe.”
Shandy shed one layer of the mysterious veil surrounding her.
“This happened when I was an apprentice bartender at Maverick. Before I worked at the hotel, I had been doing a completely unrelated job, so I had no experience in the industry. Naturally, I struggled. I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do. My mentor, Iimori-san, and even the customers were always telling me off, and every day I cried in the back room. sniff.”
“The crying part is a lie.”
“Boo. Surely I’m allowed to embellish the story a little?”
Shandy turned her head away with a smug little snort at Sanae’s triumphant sneer, then continued.
“It was during those days. Assuming I’d just get scolded again for being incompetent, I served a customer a Shandy Gaff I’d only just learned to make. And they said, ‘It’s delicious.’
“I was so moved that I cried.”
“I see.”
“…You could at least tell me that the crying just now was a lie too. You’re making me embarrassed.”
“The crying was probably genuine. I was merely impressed to discover that you, too, have a human side.”
“This high-level battle of wits is returned to sender.”
Shandy cut off Sanae’s retort and took a sip from the bottle of tea on the table.
“The Shandy Gaff I made back then had a different recipe from today’s. I simply made it exactly as I’d been taught, exactly as the recipe book instructed. It was awful.
“And yet there was a customer who enjoyed it.”
Shandy finished her story with a smile, then looked at Mikoto again.
Mikoto felt as though her gaze were eloquently asking, Well? What do you think I was getting at?
Mikoto considered why Shandy had told her this story.
Mikoto had insisted that she lacked ability.
Sanae, and presumably Shandy as well, were trying to encourage her.
If you lack ability, you can simply work hard and acquire it.
Was that the sort of commonplace sermon they wanted to give her, something anyone could say?
“…Was that the incident that made you work hard at becoming a bartender?”
“Hehe. Of course not! Why would I do that? Hard work is exhausting.”
Mikoto’s shoulders relaxed.
This was Shandy all over.
She always sounded as though she were being serious, only to pull the rug out from under you somewhere along the way.
“What on earth was the point of that story, then…?”
“Now, of course, I’m not denying the value of hard work. But I think what’s more important is the connection with people who recognise your efforts, the compatibility between you. Like alcohol, which blends together and becomes a cocktail.”
“Compatibility…”
Shandy murmured the word quietly.
“Even if you’re an untalented enthusiast, an amateur doing things your own way, or simply lacking in ability, if there is someone who likes what you do, that’s enough. Even if it’s only one person out of a million… no, even if it’s only one person out of the seven billion people in the entire world, if that one person says they like it, that’s enough for me.”
“It would be rather inconvenient if you submitted a project that appealed to only one person. That said, I’ve heard that projects designed to satisfy one particular person can resonate with a much larger audience. I’m afraid I’m merely repeating something I read in a business book.”
“You mean I really do have… ability?”
“Would you be sitting here for an interview if you didn’t?”
For a moment, Mikoto’s heart wavered.
It was like a shaft of light piercing the darkness of being lost in the fog.
When she had first seen the completed Digital Memo, she really had been happy.
Even someone as lacking as herself had finally managed to create something that could take physical form.
It wasn’t on sale yet, and she had no idea how many units it would need to sell to qualify as a hit.
Even so, she felt rewarded.
All that struggle had been worth it.
Perhaps, for the first time, she could believe that she really did possess some ability as a planner.
Even so, a small success wasn’t enough to propel Mikoto forward.
“I’m sorry. I still can’t bring myself to make that commitment…”
“This woman…”
“Now, now. Mikoto-san is always like this. She worries and gets depressed on her own, but eventually she makes up her mind. Let’s give her time.”
“We can keep the Planning Department position open for another month. The plan is to slip that Potpourri into the first-half planning competition and hire Kurosu-san…”
“The planning competition…”
The planning competition.
It was a meritocratic world in which proposals from throughout the Hibiya Group were brought together and pitted against one another.
And at last, that was what pushed Mikoto over the edge.
“…Then do this. Will you decide whether to hire me based on the result of the planning competition?”
The faces of all three interviewers filled with exactly the same expression of surprise.
“You mean you want to make a new project~? You don’t need to do that, Sanae-chan is already trying to recruit you~.”
Mikoto had made up her mind.
“I want to test whether I really have the ability to work for your company, entirely on my own, without relying on anyone else’s power. Let me prove myself.”
“You do seem to enjoy being tested, Mikoto-san.”
“I find it extremely difficult to understand.”
Sanae buried her face in her hands, and Mikoto pressed on regardless.
“Sanae-san should test me too. Surely it’s better if I earn my place at Hibiya on my own merits.”
“It’s spectacularly inefficient. There is also a possibility that you will fail.”
“If I fail, it will damage the career of the person who recommended me. I… can’t keep relying on your kindness, either.”
“You wanted to be equals. Wasn’t that what you said, Mikoto?”
Whether it was the person she loved, a friend, her little sister, or someone who might eventually become her colleague, Mikoto’s feelings were the same.
She didn’t want to rely on anyone one-sidedly.
She wanted to be independent.
That was her true desire.
“My ideal of adulthood is not becoming a burden on anyone.”
“That is rather twisted in its own way, though.”
“Even so, there is already one person who says that’s all right.”
“Urgh.”
Shandy was rendered speechless.
She covered her face with Mikoto’s CV, clearly pleased by the unexpected lucky punch.
Mikoto was rather pleased with herself too, until Sanae’s enormous sigh reached her ears.
“…I understand your resolve.”
“Will you consider it?”
“Yes. Let’s do this. At next month’s planning competition, whether or not your new project is selected will be the condition for your employment with our company. To honour your wishes, there will be no compromises and no special considerations. You will win your place on merit. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes.”
“…Even if that means disregarding the concession I was offering you?”
“You recognise that I have planning ability. So if that’s the case, surely there is no way I can fail.”
Sanae smiled wryly.
Perhaps she was exasperated by Mikoto’s unexpected counterattack and her sheer stubbornness.
But Mikoto thought that was fine.
If she wanted to avoid relying on anyone and remain their equal, she had to improve the parts of herself that were lacking.
“If that is your will, then understood. Do your best.”
“Yes.”
At last, the interview was over.
All four of them, Mikoto included, slumped heavily against the backs of their office chairs.
Whether they were acquaintances or lovers, or rather, precisely because they were people close to her, Mikoto couldn’t hide anything from them. The sheer mental exhaustion had been tremendous.
At times like this, she wanted a drink.
“You found what you were looking for, Mikoto-san, so I lost the Moratorium Game. Now, let’s have a celebratory drink. As it happens, I brought some alcohol with me in case something like this happened.”
“Shandy-san, this is a workplace… And Hibiya headquarters, at that…”
“Anywhere with alcohol is a bar.”
“I like that~. I wanna drink~.”
“Akazawa, we are at work. And I cannot drink.”
“Then have some mixed juice, Sanae-chan. I bought some for you from the vending machine downstairs~.”
“I will not rise to your provocation. I have this.”
“There’s snacks too, you know?”
“Snacks…”
Sanae’s movement stopped for a fraction of a second.
Mikoto remembered that when Sanae had come to investigate Kotone’s circumstances, she had inexplicably brought a gift box of sweets with her.
Perhaps she really did like snacks.
“There’s hardly anyone here because of remote working, and practically nobody will be using the meeting rooms, right? It’s the Three Cs incarnate. Nobody will catch us even if we have a party.”
“I’m in~. What about you, Mi-chan?”
“Even if I object, you’ll just force it through…”
“You know me so well. Now then, Sanae-chan, what will you do~?”
Shandy had transformed completely into a wicked Mama tormenting Sanae.
Sanae turned her back on them and reached for the door.
“…I’m going back to my desk.”
“You’re no fun. Your wife is going to get sick of you if you entirely ignore the mood of the moment.”
“I’m only going to get the snacks from my desk. I’ve accumulated quite a collection of sweets people have given me to thank me for work.”
Despite seeming utterly unsociable and lacking any warmth, Sanae was perceptive and efficient.
Mikoto thought that employees fortunate enough to work under a manager like her might be happy, even if the work itself was undoubtedly demanding.
Sanae too was an image of the sort of adult Mikoto wanted to become, someone she admired and wanted to approach.
One day, Mikoto wanted to stand on equal footing with her professionally.
And she knew exactly what she needed to do to get there.
A truly outstanding project, one capable of winning Hibiya’s planning competition.
“…Thank you, Sanae-san.”
“Don’t mention it.”
With that, Sanae left the meeting room.
Meanwhile, Shandy, who had gone to the trouble of bringing a small cooler box, began lining up chilled glasses and bottles of alcohol one after another.
The room where Mikoto had just been relentlessly interrogated was transforming into something almost indistinguishable from her bar, antiqua.
The whole thing was profoundly surreal.
“It’s amazing that you managed to win Sanae-chan over~. Shall we be friends?”
“I feel as though there is something you should be saying to me first.”
“Was there? I mean, we made up after fighting during the exhibition, and Mi-chan proposed to you, didn’t she? That’s all thanks to me, right~?”
“Well, you certainly have some nerve saying that. What a wicked woman.”
“I’m not taking that from the woman who called me a witch~.”
“Hehe.”
“Hehehe…”
Shandy and Kurumi laughed wickedly together.
Mikoto simply wanted to go home.
—Moratorium Game: Mikoto’s victory.