#70: Mint Julep / ep. 1
The final day at Meiji Stationery, at the end of April.
The people summoned to the meeting room were Mikoto, Rinko, and three other young administrative employees, along with the third-generation president of Meiji Stationery, Managing Director Tsuzuki, and the veteran office administrator.
“Please accept our deepest apologies!”
The moment they arrived, the third-generation president and Managing Director Tsuzuki dropped into dogeza, pressing their foreheads towards the floor with such force that they might as well have been trying to rub them against it.
Presumably it was an apology for the company having to lay off the five of them.
But Mikoto was stunned, as were Rinko and the three remaining young employees when they exchanged glances.
Watching someone perform dogeza was hardly a pleasant experience. After checking the expressions of the other employees, Mikoto had no choice but to ask the two men to raise their heads.
And so, a painful and sorrowful final day at the company came to an end without ever quite feeling resolved.
“So this really is goodbye to the company…”
Mikoto packed up the belongings she had accumulated over five full years in the office.
Looking up at the building housing the little factory in the downtown neighbourhood, she murmured to herself.
Beside her, Rinko raised her red single-lens reflex camera and pressed the shutter.
“Express what you’re feeling with your whole body!”
Rinko’s lens captured Mikoto.
“Why the camera?”
“When I thought about it, I realised that now I can take as many photos of my oshi as I want! So I thought I’d learn how to use a proper camera!”
“That’s incredibly positive…”
“There’s no point moping. Besides, this is the second time I’ve quit a company.”
Even though she had just been laid off, Rinko seemed remarkably refreshed.
Unlike Mikoto, she had already experienced leaving a company once before, and she already had another job lined up. Today, apparently, she had been given permission by her boss, Kotone, to take paid leave.
“Mikoto-san, smile~.”
“I can’t smile.”
The electronic shutter captured the instant Mikoto gave a wry smile.
On the preview screen Rinko showed her, Mikoto’s expression looked caught somewhere between laughter and sadness.
“If you’re going to take them, at least make me look prettier.”
“Don’t worry. You look good in every pose, Mikoto-san! I’ll send them to you later, okay?”
“Don’t bother…”
Rinko seemed to have something on her mind, because she continued photographing the company building.
As Mikoto watched, Managing Director Tsuzuki came out to see them off.
He had two paper bags tucked under one arm.
“Oh, good. I nearly forgot to give these to you.”
“Um, did I leave something behind?”
“No, no. You could call them farewell gifts, I suppose. We give them to everyone who leaves the company.”
Managing Director Tsuzuki showed them the contents of the bags.
One dozen pencils manufactured by Meiji Stationery.
There was also a whole assortment of stationery from other companies: pencil cases, rulers, and so on. Even mechanical pencils and ballpoint pens that could be considered rival products.
It looked almost like a collection of gifts for someone starting school.
Except that one of the notebooks inside had clearly been used.
“This notebook is my personal observation diary of the two of you.”
“Eugh…”
Rinko recoiled with undisguised horror.
Even Mikoto, who trusted Managing Director Tsuzuki, couldn’t help flinching at the idea that an “observation diary” meant she had been watched.
Perhaps realising from their reactions that he had not explained himself very well, Tsuzuki hurried to clarify.
“No, no, I do this for every employee without distinction. I observe how they work, listen to what people say about them, and write down what I consider to be their strengths.”
On the cover of the notebook, Mikoto’s name, employee number, and date of joining were written in elegant calligraphy.
The notebook, which had presumably been used for five years in Mikoto’s case, and two years in Rinko’s, bore the marks of all that time.
“Can I read it?”
“Of course. I thought it might be useful to you. This is about all I can do for you now.”
Mikoto began to unravel the history of her five years.
Assigned to the Planning and Advertising Division. They are asking for something vague like a ‘woman’s perspective’. She will probably struggle. I want to create an environment where she can work without putting too much pressure on herself.
She greets everyone cheerfully. She treats everyone equally, regardless of who they are. That is a wonderful quality.
Apparently she is having trouble learning the job. I want to let her develop at her own pace. I should suggest that to the president.
Her advertising proposal was rejected, but the way she identified the opportunity was novel. I hope she sticks to this direction.
The employees have a good opinion of her attention to detail. It will be difficult in a company like ours, where many people are rather slapdash, but perhaps this will give her an opportunity to develop her abilities.
Shirai-san seems to have taken a liking to her. If they get a chance to work together in the same team, perhaps they will both grow.
Almost the entire notebook was filled with Mikoto’s five years.
Tsuzuki had focused solely on her strengths and tried, in his own way, to nurture them.
From around the time Mikoto was appointed head of that particular project, words such as she has planning ability and it would be a waste to keep her at Meiji Stationery began appearing again and again.
“…………”
“Well, it’s just an old man’s ramblings. If you don’t need it, feel free to throw it away. And I have another notebook for Kurosu-san.”
Tsuzuki took another notebook from the paper bag.
It was small enough to fit in a pocket, with the words REQUEST NOTES scrawled across the cover.
“This was entrusted to me by Aomi-san. Apparently she used to write down ideas for projects that came up while she was visiting clients on sales calls.”
The rounded handwriting belonged to Meiji Stationery’s saleswoman, Aomi Shiina.
Her Request Notes were filled to bursting with customer needs that had nothing to do with stationery. For instance, things like whether there was a more user-friendly website for searching for bars and pubs.
In other words, seeds for future projects.
“Aomi gave me this?”
“She was too embarrassed to give it to you herself, so she entrusted it to me. She’s in sales, yet somehow she can’t help herself.”
Tsuzuki laughed heartily, his face creasing with laughter lines like a kindly old grandfather.
Both Tsuzuki and Shiina had been trying, in their own ways, to do something that might help Mikoto.
The thoughtfulness behind that brought tears to Mikoto’s eyes.
“…Thank you. I’ll put it to good use. Please give Aomi my regards.”
“Of course. I know this can never make up for what happened, but I look forward to seeing what the two of you accomplish from here on.”
“Managing Director! Let’s take a photo!”
Rinko, who had initially been taken aback by the notebook, seemed to have been moved by what she had read as well.
She grabbed a passing employee and asked them to take a commemorative photograph with her single-lens reflex camera.
The composition placed Tsuzuki in the middle, with Mikoto and Rinko on either side of him.
“I’m sure you feel like you’re surrounded by flowers, Managing Director.”
“I feel like I’ve been put in a coffin surrounded by flowers.”
“Don’t make jokes that are so difficult to respond to!”
The photograph had the strange nostalgia and warmth of a graduation photo taken by a teacher and their students.
Mikoto had spent five years there after graduating university.
Had the company, in some small way, helped her grow into a member of society, into an adult?
She looked back from the gate after leaving the building and saw Tsuzuki standing in the distance, growing smaller with every step.
Mikoto bowed deeply.
“Thank you for everything!”
After saying goodbye to Tsuzuki, who weakly waved back at her, Mikoto and Rinko began walking towards Yushima Station on the subway, a place they probably wouldn’t be using again for some time.
Kurosu Mikoto was now unemployed.
And yet, somehow, her heart felt strangely light.
“Good work today, Mikoto… And why have you brought Rinko-san home with you?”
Kyōdō, a 2 bedroom apartment.
Shandy, still wearing the long T-shirt she used as pyjamas, gave a suspicious look to Rinko, who was practically glued to Mikoto’s back.
The look was almost a stabbing one.
“When she gets home, Kotone will be there, so she wants to kill some time here.”
“Are you still after Mikoto? Women who don’t know when to give up are disliked, you know?”
“The whole city is under requests to close! There’s nowhere else to go! Make me a drink!”
“It’s not even noon yet.”
“I don’t care! I want a drink!”
Apparently, Rinko regarded the flat in Kyōdō as essentially another antiqua.
It certainly had an impressive selection of alcohol.
In addition to the bottles Shandy had bought for home, she occasionally went to Roppongi and brought back stock from the bar.
Since the bar wasn’t operating, that was apparently acceptable.
But Shandy shook her head.
“I can’t serve either of you alcohol in your current state.”
“Why not?”
“You really don’t understand?”
With her usual mysterious smile, Shandy stood up.
She walked towards them with the supple grace of a cat and stopped directly in front of Mikoto and Rinko.
Distracted by the eyes looming so close in front of her—
“Ow!?”
Shandy pinched her in the side.
Rinko was subjected to the same treatment, Shandy grabbing a handful of flesh around her waist.
“What are you doing!?”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
Mikoto realised.
She had realised something she very much wished she hadn’t.
The problem wasn’t that Shandy had suddenly pinched her side.
The problem was that there was enough excess flesh there to pinch.
“Stop…!”
“What is this flesh? Hmm? Hmm?”
“Stooooooop!”
Whether it was the result of visiting antiqua night after night, the stress of job hunting, lack of exercise during the stay-at-home period, or perhaps simply having enjoyed happiness to its fullest…
Mikoto had noticed it when she put on her recruit suit for the first time in five years, but had deliberately pretended not to see it.
Now she was paying the price.
Her abdominal muscles, which had once been reasonably well trained, though not quite defined enough to split into a six-pack, had been thoroughly covered in a soft layer of flesh.
Rinko was in the same boat.
“Has Rinko-san put on some happiness weight too?”
“That’s not it! Mine is from the stress of living with that idiot— Ah, sorry, Mikoto-san! I didn’t mean anything bad about your sister!”
“I think that was quite a bad thing to say about her.”
“You be quiet!”
At a glance, it was impossible to tell whether Rinko had actually put on weight.
She had always had a voluptuous figure, so there wasn’t much obvious difference.
But apparently Shandy’s eyes couldn’t be fooled.
Shandy herself, meanwhile, had remained almost unchanged despite drinking enough alcohol every night to bathe in it. She still had the delicate, doll-like figure of a porcelain figurine.
It was frighteningly enviable.
And deeply irritating.
“I don’t particularly mind, you know? But is this really the ideal figure you want to show me?”
Shandy still hadn’t released the flesh at Mikoto’s side.
If anything, she seemed to be holding it hostage, her eyes gleaming mischievously.
“It seems your love has… become part of me?”
When the punishment was this painful, even Mikoto’s voice was bound to squeak.
“Shall I keep filling you up with love until you puff up and burst?”
“I, I have heard that healthy beauty is becoming more fashionable these days…”
“Yes. A fuller figure is certainly another form of beauty. But compromising on your figure and calling it plus size as an excuse for failing to maintain it would be disrespectful to people who take pride in being plus size. Wouldn’t you agree that it would be a desecration of beauty?”
“No, well… You did just say you didn’t mind, so I assumed you loved me exactly as I am…”
“Did you?”
Shandy grinned.
Her fingers tightened.
The flesh was pinched harder, then twisted mercilessly.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow!?”
“I don’t remember asking you to manage my body either!?”
“If Rinko-san puts on weight, Kotone-san, who lives with you, might let herself go too. She might think, ‘Ah, Rinko-chan’s getting fat, so I might as well eat~.’”
“Absolutely not! Kotone is at her best right now! I don’t want her any fatter or any thinner!”
Rinko liked Kotone’s appearance, at least, enough to buy a single-lens reflex camera just to take photographs of her oshi.
There were probably a substantial number of candid shots of Kotone on that camera by now.
Mikoto didn’t even want to imagine how many albums’ worth of photographs that represented.
At last, Shandy released her fingers.
“Now, go and get changed.”
“Changed into what…?”
Shandy giggled and pointed towards the television.
A morning news programme was playing.
It was the end of April.
Mikoto had completely forgotten, but according to the calendar, it was Golden Week.
Even during the stay-at-home period, people were being shown jogging around the Imperial Palace and running through Yoyogi Park while observing social distancing.
“Let’s run from here to Yoyogi Park. It’s the Jogging Game.”
“You can’t just stick ‘Game’ onto everything!”
“Then let me put it another way. It’s a diet. You need to get rid of the excess fat around your waist, and the excess fat in your heart.”
“Urgh…”
When confronted with those words directly, neither Mikoto nor Rinko could find anything to say.
They left Aoi, who had been indulging in a deep sleep, in charge of the flat and left their apartment in Kyōdō.
The route was simple.
They just had to run north along the Odakyu Line from Kyōdō until they reached their destination, Yoyogi Park.
Approximately five kilometres.
Neither too long nor too short.
A perfectly balanced distance.
“Wait, my side hurts…!”
That distance was only perfectly balanced for someone with an established exercise routine.
A few minutes after they began running, Mikoto was doubled over in front of the neighbourhood’s rigged vending machine.
Mikoto had devoted her middle- and high-school years to basketball and continued playing casually at university.
But the moment she became a working adult, that enthusiasm had completely disappeared.
With commuting and work consuming her time, and opportunities to meet friends and former teammates disappearing, there had been practically no chance to exercise.
“Pull yourself together. You were a power forward who prided herself on her physical fitness, weren’t you?”
“I haven’t exercised properly in ages! What do you expect!? And why are both of you still fine…?”
“I ran every day until I started living with Mikoto. What about you, Rinko-san?”
“I used to be on the track team, though I specialised in sprinting. And I cycled to work too. Plus, I sprinted at full speed quite recently.”
“The Full-Speed Slope?”
“The corridor at the station that produces that programme.”
Ahead of Mikoto, Shandy and Rinko casually announced their athletic backgrounds.
It’s cheating to keep that quiet.
Shandy’s form was beautiful, which was hardly surprising given that she apparently ran regularly.
From the windbreaker and shorts over long running tights to the way she moved, she looked like a work of art in motion.
Rinko, meanwhile, was wearing spare exercise clothes Mikoto had lent her.
The androgynous colours and design seemed as though they shouldn’t suit Rinko’s feminine appearance, which only made the contrast more appealing.
“You’re getting flabby, Mikoto~.”
“Yeah. It doesn’t suit you. Can I take a photo?”
“Absolutely not!”
Mikoto somehow managed to stand again while clutching her side, but even walking made the muscles along her abdomen twitch.
Five years of physical inactivity weighed on her like lead.
Her mind thought she should be able to manage this much.
Her body emphatically disagreed.
“…Can’t we walk? Five kilometres would only take an hour…”
“Getting lazy~.”
Rinko chuckled.
It sounded almost exactly like Kotone.
Perhaps living together had caused her to pick up the habit.
A bad influence.
“Even if we slow the pace, we should run. What’s important for burning fat is your heart rate. Apparently sixty-five per cent of your maximum heart rate is the most efficient for fat burning.”
“I don’t even know my maximum heart rate…”
“Mikoto’s is two hundred, so aim for around one hundred and thirty.”
“…How do you know Mikoto-san’s heart rate?”
“You can measure it in bed, can’t you?”
Before the fat around Mikoto’s stomach could burst, the blood in her head nearly did.
Pretending her side still hurt, Mikoto lowered her head, desperately trying to hide how red her face had become.
“I’m already that far above one hundred and thirty…”
“Because you’re in love with me?”
“Fine. Whatever…”
Shandy laughed happily.
In contrast, Rinko’s exasperated voice could be heard nearby.
She had just been subjected to an extremely public display of affection, so Mikoto could hardly blame her.
But Mikoto simply couldn’t move.
She was already regretting the decision to exercise so suddenly when Shandy, now thoroughly in drill-sergeant mode, gave her a mischievous smile.
“Then perhaps we should turn this into a Game after all. This is a race between the three of us. How about the winner gets to do whatever they like with the person who comes last, for one night?”
“What are you talking about, Shandy-san…!?”
Mikoto looked up, but instead of Shandy, she immediately checked Rinko’s expression.
“Are you serious?”
“Of course. I never say something like that without meaning it. The winner gets to do whatever they like with the loser. That’s the basic rule of a Game.”
“So if I win, I get Mikoto-sa… I mean, the person who comes last?”
“Assuming you win. At worst, I might be the one who has you for the night.”
“…I’m prepared for that.”
Rinko began an especially thorough warm-up.
Her expression was utterly serious, and unmistakable fighting spirit burned in her normally gentle, slightly drooping eyes.
Shandy, meanwhile, narrowed her eyes seductively and directed an openly combative smile at Rinko.
It was a horrifyingly nasty Game.
Mikoto tried desperately to steady her breathing.
“Wait, wait! That’s not okay, is it!?”
“If you don’t like it, you simply have to win, Mikoto. Just like every other Game.”
“Yep, yep. You can walk if you want, Mikoto-san. I’ll protect you.”
“No, no…!”
They were both serious.
They finished warming up with little athletic hops, then walked over to the rigged vending machine where Mikoto was still crouching.
The three of them lined up.
In other words, this was the starting line for the Game.
“As we decided, we’ll follow the Odakyu Line. If I say the police box in front of the park is the goal, do you know where I mean?”
“The slope down towards Harajuku, right? I know it.”
“Hehe. Then shall we begin? A delightful Game.”
“This is the first time I’ve thought a Game sounded fun.”
“Wait—”
Suddenly, fluent English rang out.
“On your mark…”
On either side of the bewildered Mikoto, Shandy and Rinko lowered their bodies.
Crouching starts.
“Get set…”
By the time Mikoto hurriedly began getting into position herself, it was already too late.
“Go!”
Her side hurt. Her breathing was ragged.
And without the slightest mercy for Mikoto in that condition, Shandy and Rinko shot off at full speed.
Only a few hours earlier, Mikoto had been standing outside her former workplace, thinking wistfully about Meiji Stationery.
Now, without a moment’s warning, a fearsome, full-throttle diet race had begun.