#78: Separation
“Hey, why’d you cover my mouth? Don’t we have to tell Miko-Nee? About Koto-Nee and her manager?”
“Now, now, if you keep talking, the sushi will run away.”
“Ahh! Don’t eat my salmon roe!”
Shandy-san had polished off the salmon-roe sushi with a smile of pure contentment. The precious piece I’d been saving for last was now sitting in her stomach. All that remained was the thinly sliced cucumber that had come with the sushi.
Next time, I’m going to make her cry by cooking a dinner packed with vegetables she absolutely hates.
There are few things more frightening than holding a grudge over food.
But the salmon roe wasn’t the real issue.
“That’s not what I mean. Why do we have to keep quiet about it? Both of them are important to Miko-Nee.”
“Precisely because they’re important to her, we have to keep quiet.”
Shandy-san drained her second highball and murmured the words under her breath.
Why keep quiet precisely because someone is important?
If someone really matters to you, isn’t it strange to keep secrets from them?
“Mikoto is a very kind person. So kind that she’ll put herself second.”
“Then wouldn’t it be even more cruel not to tell her?”
“What do you think would happen if we told her?”
“She’d definitely listen to both sides and try to make them reconcile!”
“Which is why we don’t tell her.”
I’d thought Shandy-san was a kind person, but sometimes she could be mean.
Maybe she really was the selfish, wicked woman that the manager had described.
“Shandy-Nee, you’re cold… Don’t blame me if Miko-Nee hates you.”
“Mikoto would never hate me.”
“You don’t know that! Not if she finds out how cold you can be!”
“I’m a cold-hearted woman, so I’ll eat Aoi-chan’s sushi too.”
“Ahhh! That’s my prawn-and-basil-cheese! Isn’t basil a vegetable!?”
“Gustoso e delizioso!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
No matter how many questions I asked, Shandy-san told me nothing.
What did Miko-Nee see in this woman?
She really was a complete mystery.
＊
At the designated love hotel, Mikoto stood hesitating in front of the door to Room 302.
The location was the main problem.
She was living with Shandy and had promised her a future together. Coming here with her fiancée would be one thing, but coming alone to a place like this was about as far from her usual haunts as it was possible to get.
What if it was someone she didn’t know?
What if she somehow ended up doing something she shouldn’t?
“It’s way too scary…”
Even so, the messenger had been none other than Tōko.
Mikoto had a pretty good idea who might be waiting inside, but if that was the case, why had they gone to such ridiculous lengths, turning it into some sort of elaborate puzzle?
And why a love hotel?
“…Whatever. I’ll at least knock.”
She swallowed hard and timidly rapped on the door.
Twice.
The solid wooden door echoed.
If nobody came out, she would simply leave. If it was a stranger, she would call the police.
She was ready to summon an emergency response at the press of a button when she heard the lock click.
Someone was inside.
The door opened.
“Eek?!”
By the time she braced herself, it was already too late.
Four arms reached through the gap and seized her, dragging her bodily into Room 302 before she even got a look at the mastermind.
Her phone hit the floor, making any emergency call impossible.
Two against one.
She was doomed.
“Kurosu-san makes a surprisingly cute noise.”
“That’s not my interpretation! I want something more prince-like!”
Looking up, Mikoto saw exactly who she had expected.
Room 302 was everything a dreary old love hotel should be.
A cramped little private room that would never have been anyone’s first choice for a girls’ night out.
There were stains on the walls, frayed patches on the carpet covering the floor, and the lingering smell of chlorine, presumably from disinfecting, mixed with the damp, musty odour beloved by mould.
“Seriously, you scared the life out of me! What were you two thinking, Sanae-san? Tōko-san?”
Sanae stared back at Mikoto’s barrage of question marks before letting out a sigh, apparently having reached some conclusion.
“I don’t know where you live, Kurosu-san, so I merely asked Tōko to bring you here.”
“Tee-hee!”
“Apparently, that is what happened, Kurosu-san.”
“What do you mean, apparently?!”
“It sounded like a secret meeting, so I thought it would be more fun to use a spy-like code.”
“And what possessed you to take my phone as well…?”
“Because female spies are cool!”
“Hold on! Stop carrying on with your fūfu1 routine and explain!”
According to Tōko, she had arranged the secret meeting place because Sanae had needed to speak with Mikoto in person.
Normally, antiqua, where the sound of crickets was practically deafening these days, would have been perfectly adequate.
But antiqua was closed, and it was hardly suitable for a confidential meeting.
Not when there was a certain bartender currently enjoying sushi at home.
In other words, what they were about to discuss was top secret.
“…You can’t even tell Shandy-san?”
“You may not know this, Kurosu-san, but our company president, Hibiya Emi, is practically a god to every employee in the group. She is worshipped as the Lady Emi, an absolute authority.”
“You can’t just spring something that ridiculous on me…”
“I exaggerated somewhat. But it is essentially true. However, at present… there is a faction plotting to bring down the Lady.”
“The assignment the Lady has entrusted directly to me is to eliminate the faction opposing her.
“I assume you can guess who they are.”
She said that as though it should be obvious.
And yet, if Sanae had gone so far as to arrange a secret meeting with her, the faction in question had to be people with whom Mikoto had already had considerable history.
Once she thought about it, the pieces fell into place.
“…Kosugi and his unpleasant friends?”
“Precisely. Though Kosugi himself is merely a figurehead this time. Their objective is to bring down the Lady, then install the disgraced Kosugi in management as their puppet. If everything goes according to plan, not only can they avoid having their own division dismantled, they can increase their influence within the company.
“The department pursuing such a plan is…”
“The Secretarial Division. So this is a showdown with them?”
“Exactly.”
Sanae sat down on the edge of the bed and gave a small nod.
Behind her, Tōko was rolling around boredly, as though wondering when the conversation would finally end.
For that matter, did they really need Tōko here?
“The Secretarial Division has four members, excluding Akazawa, who is our spy. Every one of them is an utterly formidable wicked woman, a poisonous woman, the sort you simply cannot deal with by conventional means. Frankly, the four of them are more than I can handle alone.”
“You’re not going to tell me helping you is the condition for getting hired, are you…?”
“No. It’s the opposite. The condition can no longer be fulfilled.”
“What?”
Sanae silently held out an A4 sheet of paper.
It was an official transfer order.
Mikoto read it in silence, then involuntarily cried out.
“S-Shizuoka Branch?! You, Sanae-san?!”
“The inevitable consequence of the Secretarial Division taking control of personnel authority. As retaliation for making a complete mess of high society, I’ve been demoted to Hamamatsu, where there happened to be a vacant General Affairs position.”
“So you’re moving away? That’s a shame…”
“Worry about yourself rather than me. Once I’ve been demoted, there will be nobody left to pull strings on your behalf during your job hunt.”
“Right. I guess it is my problem too…!”
Sanae tore up the transfer order and burned the pieces with a lighter, destroying them completely.
For that brief moment, even Tōko looked delighted.
Presumably because burning documents was exactly the sort of thing that happened in spy films.
“The Secretarial Division is currently moving to take complete control of Human Resources. I don’t mean to praise myself, but Human Resources knows perfectly well how much damage transferring Yanase Sanae away from headquarters would do.
“The fact that they nevertheless ordered my transfer is proof that a powerful force was at work, forcing them to do so.”
“They’re really that capable…?”
Sanae handed Mikoto four clear files.
Each contained a photograph, CV, employment history, and even internal personnel records.
They were practically bundles of personal information.
Hibiya seemed to observe compliance regulations on the surface, yet behind the scenes it was riddled with holes.
“Read through these. They are the people we will be fighting.”
“I’m supposed to fight them?!”
“Please.”
Sanae bowed her head.
Tōko promptly dropped into a full dogeza as well, only with so much enthusiasm that she went rolling across the bed.
“No, no, absolutely not! I can’t! I’m not even an employee, so how am I supposed to fight them? And stop using the fact that we’re friends whenever it suits you!”
“As long as the Secretarial Division controls personnel authority, your job offer is impossible.
“That means they are your enemy too, Kurosu-san. If we can simply return personnel authority to where it belongs, both your employment and my return to headquarters become possible.
“Will you help us?”
To summarise Sanae’s explanation:
For the time being, the Secretarial Division had grown increasingly arrogant, with plans eventually to bring down President Emi, the Lady, and interfere directly in management.
Sanae had been ordered by the Lady herself to confront the Secretarial Division.
But once they realised what she was doing, the Secretarial Division approached Human Resources and had Sanae, their greatest potential threat, removed.
Meanwhile, Mikoto was trying to get hired by bringing a project to Hibiya and achieving a strong result in the planning competition.
But the people who would decide whether to hire Mikoto belonged to Human Resources, which was under the control of the Secretarial Division.
For Mikoto to join Hibiya, she would have to defeat the Secretarial Division.
And if the Secretarial Division could be defeated, Mikoto could finally join Hibiya’s Planning Department.
Sanae could return to headquarters.
“No, no, I can’t do that…”
“Please, Mikoto-san! I can’t bear the thought of Sanae having to go off on her own!”
“Then go with her…”
“But then I won’t be able to drink Shandy-san’s alcohol! And I won’t get to admire MikoSha!”
“Those are your reasons…?”
“Waaah! Sanae! Don’t cheat on me!”
“I have no one but Tōko.”
“Eeeek! That’s exactly what I love about you!”
Mikoto was already thoroughly fed up with this fūfu comedy routine, whose emotional swings were becoming increasingly violent, when Sanae, still firmly embraced by Tōko, bowed her head once more.
“I know it is presumptuous to ask after you have already helped me twice. But I have spoken with my subordinates, Iida and Akazawa, as well as factions within the company that are opposed to the Secretarial Division.
“I will participate remotely, and Tōko should be able to provide you with ample support.”
“I’ll do anything! If you tell me to wear a bunny-girl outfit, I’ll happily put one on!”
“Don’t remind me!”
Just remembering it made Mikoto feel as though her face were on fire.
The Instagram post had eventually been deleted, but there was no doubt that somewhere in Japan, someone had saved it on their phone.
Now she understood perfectly how Kotone must feel when people save photographs of her and use them for this and that.
The thought was deeply unsettling.
And horribly embarrassing.
“To put it plainly, there are any number of ways I could force you into this.
“But I don’t want to use such underhanded methods on a friend.
“I simply want to work alongside you at Hibiya.”
Even Sanae’s normally stiff, almost offensively formal voice, devoid of emotion, sounded painful this time.
Mikoto understood that this was a decision Sanae had reached only after considerable anguish.
The fact that she had chosen to accept a solo posting despite being newly married was probably so that Tōko could remain behind and provide support.
She was sacrificing her home life for her work.
It was old-fashioned, perhaps, but Mikoto could understand the strength of conviction she brought to her job.
“…If we really defeat the Secretarial Division, will things turn out the way you want?”
“Trust me.”
“Please, Mikoto-san! Save our marriage!”
Hearing it described as a crisis for their fūfu made it difficult even for Mikoto, who was supposed to have nothing to do with the matter, to refuse.
It was rather cheeky of Tōko to exploit her after Sanae had just sworn not to use underhanded methods, but these two were friends of Mikoto’s too.
And, more importantly, they were precious senior fūfu she could learn from.
…Maybe I should help them.
The good part of her heart, the part that habitually drew the short straw and ended up losing out, poked its head above the parapet.
Immediately, a furious debate broke out in the parliament inside her head.
And eventually, a resolution was reached.
“…I’ll give it serious consideration, but don’t get your hopes up.”
The motion was, for the moment, tabled.
She still hadn’t sorted out her feelings.
Besides, agreeing too readily would be disrespectful in its own way.
“Understood. As you actually confront the Secretarial Division, you can make up your mind.”
“…I’m going home.”
“Thank you for coming all this way. Ah, and one more thing.”
“You want me to keep it secret from Shandy-san, right?”
“Please do.”
Mikoto left Room 302 carrying the personal files of the four members of the Secretarial Division, her footsteps heavy.
Getting dragged into office politics in the middle of a job hunt was beyond unprecedented.
And not only was she being asked to participate in those politics, she was being asked to sabotage the Secretarial Division’s plans.
There was no way some novice from a pencil company, barely one step above a complete nobody, could defeat the Four Heavenly Kings of this den of iniquity.
There was no way.
And yet, if she couldn’t, getting hired mid-career was nothing more than a pipe dream.
“I just want a normal job offer!”
Taking advantage of the fact that there was nobody nearby, Mikoto shouted those words into the night sky over Kyōdō.
＊
“Hey, Sanae. Are you really not going to ask Shandy-san to help? She’d be so useful.”
In the bathroom of Room 302, after Mikoto had left, Tōko asked the question while Sanae floated in the large bathtub.
“I could ask, but she wouldn’t act.”
“Then what if we ask her through Mikoto-san?”
“That probably wouldn’t work either. That woman is supporting Kurosu-san’s job hunt by deliberately doing nothing to help.
“She’s like a parent watching their child grow up.”
“Ohhh… Right. Mikoto-san did say she wanted to be a match for Shandy-san.”
“That woman probably wants to help deep down. But she understands Kurosu-san’s wishes and is deliberately leaving her to it.
“That is why she won’t move through legitimate means.”
“Then there is an underhanded way! As expected of Sanae! What is it?”
Tōko had finished washing herself and slipped her arms around Sanae from behind as Sanae sat in the bath.
For a while, they would have to do without opportunities to enjoy the warmth of the bath and each other at the same time.
So Sanae leaned back against her while she still could.
Then, slowly, she opened her mouth.
“…We will deliberately put Kurosu-san in a tight spot.”
“You can be pretty ruthless sometimes, Sanae.”
“It is for the sake of our work.
“She may pretend to be uninvolved, but the moment she realises Kurosu-san is in serious trouble, she will do whatever it takes to protect her.
“Just as she did during our little high-society incident earlier.”
“Using love like that is so cruel, Sanae! My angel has turned into a devil!”
“If that is the case, then we are both devils.”
“True. But won’t she resent us?”
“I cannot deny that my conscience troubles me.
“But I have things I want to protect too, and when it comes to protecting them, I will not choose my means.”
“What things do you want to protect?”
“You already know.”
“Heehee.”
On a Tokyo night when the two of them would soon have to part, they shared their warmth in the bath.
A fūfu living towards the same goal could not have its bond severed by a mere few hundred kilometres.
Feeling the eternity contained in their words, their warmth, and the touch of each other’s fingertips, the two women simply pressed their lips together.
-
The story deliberately uses the Japanese fūfu, literally “married women/wives”, rather than ordinary fūfu (夫婦, husband-and-wife couple). ↩