#79: Angel / ep.1
Shimbashi. On the top floor of the Hibiya Trading building, the gods sat enthroned.
It was the sanctum at the summit of the organisation, where the Lady who steered Hibiya and the members of its executive management ruled over a group of forty thousand employees. The five angels who gathered there were the ones who greeted anyone stepping out of the private elevator, Mihashira, which ran directly from the entrance.
The angels who guarded the sanctum were known as the Hibiya Trading General Affairs Department, Secretary Division.
Their duties were to support the gods in their divine work, keep trivial matters from troubling them, and send anyone unworthy of an audience with the gods back down to the mortal realm with the words, “If you don’t have an appointment, please leave.”
Although ninety percent of the people within the company considered them not angels, but devils.
“Wow, so in the end he was all talk? Even though he was going on about having a wife and kids. The deputy head of Human Resources, no less.”
In the kitchenette tucked away in one corner of the Secretary Division office, Akazawa Kurumi closed the gates of her heart so that no one would notice and answered the colleague who had approached her with such keen interest.
“I whispered a little something in his ear. ‘It’s such a shame that someone as capable as you is rotting away in your current position. I might just fall for you if I saw you really throwing yourself into your work.’”
“Nice. Men really are such children, no matter how old they get.”
Her fellow recruit, Utada Rieru, laughed in her drawn-out, cutesy manner, utterly out of place in an office. But Kurumi could see straight through it. The smile was merely social.
Utada Rieru of the Secretary Division.
A former reader model for a teen magazine, she had belonged to a modelling agency while attending university, then, upon graduating, gracefully abandoned the glittering world and made a spectacular transformation into an office lady. The fact that she continued to use her stage name from her days as a talent was proof that someone powerful enough to permit it stood behind her.
“Remi tried to bring him down before and failed, didn’t she? Well, Remi’s so rough and has absolutely no tact, you know? A man who’d fall for a woman like that would have to be a real oddball.”
“Hm.”
“Honestly, I thought it had to be either me or Kurumi. Because Michelle’s just a creepy, fake-sweet girl who only appeals to otaku, right? And our section chief has the opposite problem. She’s so obviously intelligent that she’s got zero cuteness. Ah, I’m not saying Kurumi’s an idiot who doesn’t appeal to otaku, okay?”
It was practically an admission that she herself was an idiot.
Kurumi, not Rieru.
“I know, I know. You’re on my side, aren’t you, Rieru-chan?”
“Exactly! Let’s just ignore all the useless ones and keep the Secretary Division running together!”
Utada Rieru genuinely believed that sharing the secret of someone else’s badmouthing was enough to make them allies. And, like every person of that sort, she had no qualms about spreading even rumours about Kurumi herself.
It was something Remi, the senior colleague Rieru had described as rough and tactless, had told her.
“‘I heard it from Rieru, you know? She says you slept with Kosugi and got your job offer that way! Gahahahahaha!’”
Remi’s complete lack of tact in saying it directly to her face was bad enough, but spreading it behind her back was uglier still.
Utada Rieru was the sort of woman who functioned like a broken propaganda tower, spewing out whatever came into her head. Since that incident, Kurumi had stopped telling her anything about herself whatsoever. Even Kurumi, who normally walked her own path without caring about gossip, had no desire to be dragged into a territorial dispute between idiots. It was simply too—
“Such a pain…”
“Yeah. And why do we have to prepare for visitors anyway? Michelle can do it. She’s junior to us, and I’m busy, so, ugh, what a pain.”
If only Kurumi could say, You’re the one who’s a pain, life would be easier. But Kurumi was, after all, still an employee. It was better to preserve peace in the workplace, even if only on the surface.
Besides, she was currently a spy.
“Akazawa-san, please refrain from conspicuous behaviour. As before, simply continue doing your work in the Secretary Division.”
“Eeeh? I can’t even mention Sanae-chan’s name? They’re so annoying. I want to keep them in check.”
“No. Let them lord it over you.”
She remembered the day Sanae had entrusted her with the spying.
Remembering it had only made things even more troublesome, but Sanae was the person who had done her the enormous favour of sending Kosugi flying over the horizon. Kurumi couldn’t simply turn her back on her.
But that didn’t make it any less of a pain.
“It’s sooo much trouble.”
“Yeah. Well, I’ll bring the drinks instead of you, then. You go greet the guests.”
Leaving behind a fake smile, Rieru walked out, leaving Kurumi with the troublesome task instead.
It was almost time for the appointment. The guest being welcomed by all five members of the Secretary Division was Kurosu Mikoto.
Officially, the purpose of summoning Mikoto was to inform her that her informal job offer had been rescinded. In reality, it was also to determine whether Mikoto, who was connected to Sanae, would be an obstacle to the Secretary Division, an enemy, or harmless.
“Mii-chan’s got it rough too, doesn’t she?”
There was still some time before the appointed hour. Kurumi lit a slim cigarette and blew a forceful stream of smoke towards a sign that read NO SMOKING. The ventilation fan sucked away only the vanilla-flavoured smoke. The ominous atmosphere exuded by the women of the sanctum remained stagnant in the room.
“Um, Kurumi-senpai… The guest has arrived.”
“Oh? Already? Tell her I’ll come when I’ve finished this, will you?”
“Er, but… she’s already here…”
Her junior, Hirose Michelle, whom Rieru called a creepy fake-sweet girl, fidgeted as she repeatedly glanced towards the kitchenette’s entrance.
Then a familiar face suddenly peered around the wall.
“It’s five minutes past the appointment time, you know?”
“Then wait another three minutes, will you? I’m having a smoke.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
“I’m joking. Welcome to the forbidden garden. Come on in, Mii-chan.”
Kurumi stubbed out the cigarette she had only just lit in a portable ashtray, then sprayed herself with vanilla cologne as alibi. The clever women here probably knew perfectly well that she smoked, but in the Secretary Division, making a visible show of taking precautions was itself a means of self-defence.
To blend into this women’s sanctum, built upon such a precarious balance, one had to combine the strength to refuse to bend oneself with just enough displays of attentiveness and consideration.
This was the Secretary Division, the women’s domain at the very top of the caste system.
Beautiful, talented, accomplished. Women with the finest possible incomes, self-regard, and pride, gathered on the perfect stage to show the riffraff of the mortal world exactly how far beneath them they stood.
“Come on, all the troublesome women are waiting for you. Relax, okay?”
“You’re the most troublesome one here…”
“You might start finding me cute by the end of it. Right, Michelle-chan?”
“Ah, um… I really am troublesome, aren’t I? I’m terrible at reading the atmosphere and everything…”
Mikoto looked utterly bewildered by Michelle’s usual routine. Kurumi found it amusing that Mikoto had already fallen straight into one of the Secretary Division’s traps, and for the moment, she felt a little better.
Hirose Michelle.
She too was a troublesome woman of the Secretary Division, just like Rieru and the other members, though of a different variety.
“Hehe. There isn’t a better woman than me anywhere in the Secretary Division.”
Kurumi laughed as she said it.
She too was one of the troublesome women of the Secretary Division.
After reuniting with Kurumi, who was smoking in the supposedly non-smoking kitchenette, Mikoto was shown into a conference room within the Secretary Division.
The room was even more extravagant than the already glittering Secretary Division office. Through a single pane of glass, the sort of thing Mikoto had previously seen only in television dramas, the towers of Shinjuku rose in a vast cityscape.
A city view. A conference room filled with openness and light.
And yet the atmosphere inside was thick with menace, the exact opposite of open.
“Thank you for coming all this way. You’re Kurosu Mikoto, correct?”
“Y-yes. That’s right…”
Mikoto had been given business cards by all five members of the Secretary Division, which she had arranged in a fan shape across the table. She herself sat at the pivot of the fan, while the five women sat at equal intervals around her.
It evoked the feeling of a courtroom, or something similarly intimidating.
And being addressed by surname alone from the very outset only intensified the pressure.
She was clearly not being welcomed.
The woman seated directly opposite Mikoto, at the centre of the fan, began.
“We understand that our Yanase Sanae caused you some trouble. We apologise on her behalf.”
Still seated, the members of the Secretary Division each bowed their heads.
Michelle, the one who had just escorted Mikoto in, bowed so deeply that her forehead nearly touched the table. The other four, Kurumi included, showed not the slightest trace of remorse. One of them was even grinning.
So this is the den of wicked women and femme fatales Sanae warned me about.
Mikoto was almost convinced.
But the Secretary Division’s initiation had only just begun.
“We summoned you today regarding the informal job offer from the Planning Department. I want you to confirm the information Yanase gave you.”
The woman presiding over the discussion, whose manner of speech was blunt and masculine, was the head of the Secretary Division. Her business card read:
Mochida Latifa.
Mochida Latifa.
As her oriental-sounding name suggested, she had been born overseas. Dark skin, almond-shaped eyes, a sharply defined bridge of the nose. Her unadorned hair was simply tied up, complemented by thin-framed glasses. Anyone looking at her would have been overwhelmingly likely to conclude that she was an intelligent, highly capable secretary.
And she was every bit as capable as she looked.
She had graduated early from an overseas university and earned a doctorate in business administration, making her more than qualified even by the standards of Hibiya, where academic credentials remained deeply revered.
According to the personnel records Sanae had given Mikoto, she was also a powerhouse who had forced every one of the useless former members of the Secretary Division into retirement before taking the section chief’s chair herself.
Mikoto was now going to have to lie straight to the face of a woman who had spent her career seeing through people.
Her stomach hurt terribly.
But if she revealed her secret meeting with Sanae, everything would be over.
She had no choice.
She steeled herself.
“I was told by Yanase-san that if I achieved results in the next planning competition, I would receive a job offer from Hibiya.”
“Do you have that in writing? Or was it merely a verbal promise?”
Mikoto glanced briefly at Kurumi.
When she had interviewed with Sanae in Hibiya’s conference room, Kurumi had been present as well. So she knew that Mikoto was telling the truth.
But Kurumi merely stared at her tablet with an expression of boredom.
Nothing to do with me.
She had no intention of throwing Mikoto a lifeline.
So this was one against five.
Hopelessly outnumbered.
“It was only a verbal promise.”
“Thank you. It appears we’ve avoided the worst-case scenario.”
“What do you mean?”
“Kurumi.”
“Yeees.”
With a response that seemed to cling unpleasantly to the eardrum, Kurumi, seated at the far left of the fan, produced an official transfer order.
It was Sanae’s order to be sent to the Shizuoka branch.
“Sanae-chan was chosen for her ability and sent to reform the Shizuoka branch. Isn’t that amazing?”
“What…?”
“Mii-chan wouldn’t know this, but…”
If Kurumi hadn’t added that one little remark, Mikoto might have accidentally exposed herself.
Unless she pretended not to know what happened afterwards, Latifa, and the other members of the Secretary Division, would suspect that she had some connection to Sanae.
Whether she intended to cooperate with Sanae or not, there was nothing else she could do here but lie.
“I hadn’t heard anything about that… So what about the informal offer?”
“I’m afraid Yanase had no such intention.”
It was exactly the answer Sanae had told her to expect.
The arrangement between Mikoto and Sanae had existed only as a verbal promise, with no written record. Therefore, Secretary Division chief Latifa would claim that there had been a misunderstanding and repudiate the promise.
If it became nothing more than a dispute over who had said what, there was no evidence on which Mikoto could base a legal claim.
“So… Sanae-san deceived me?”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to accept that and give up.”
Everything up to this point had followed precisely the script Sanae had provided.
Sanae’s objective was to remove the Secretary Division’s scrutiny from Kurosu Mikoto.
If Mikoto appeared to give up on the informal offer, the Secretary Division would conclude that she was harmless.
Once Mikoto was off their radar, they could catch them off guard.
From here, Sanae’s proposal split into two paths.
One was to abandon Hibiya entirely, here and now.
The other—
“…But would it still be possible for me to participate in the competition?”
—was the path Mikoto chose.
“Why?”
The gazes of all five members of the Secretary Division, including the suspicious Latifa, pierced her.
Some seemed to be searching for her true intentions.
Others sniggered as though they genuinely thought her an idiot.
They waited for her answer.
“Well, I have a project I’ve been developing for the competition. So I thought… perhaps I could enter it as a memento.”
“A memento? In a business competition? Gahahahahaha! You’re really a workaholic, aren’t you!”
Latifa’s right-hand neighbour, Masuko Remi, a fifth-year member of the Secretary Division, doubled over with laughter.
According to the records, she had won the beauty pageant at a prestigious private university, making her both beautiful and accomplished. She maintained a flawless public image, but behind the scenes she was an extreme workplace harasser whose vicious tongue spared neither those who stuck their heads above the parapet nor those who kept them down.
Mikoto couldn’t understand how someone like that had ever become a secretary.
“Kurosu-san, you’re lucky… I can’t do anything. Not even planning, let alone actual work…”
“Haha. Michelle’s cute, so that’s all you need.”
Utada Rieru smiled sweetly at Hirose Michelle, who looked at a loss for how to respond.
Mikoto wasn’t comfortable with either of them.
She couldn’t get the slightest sense of what lay beneath either woman’s surface.
“Don’t confuse work with an entrance examination. This isn’t something you can do simply for the memories.”
Latifa rejected Mikoto’s proposal as a matter of course.
But finally, Kurumi came to her rescue.
“Oh, I don’t see why not. Let her enter.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. There is no point submitting a project to a competition in which participation has no meaning.”
Mikoto had to admit that was true.
If she had gone to all the trouble of preparing a project, submitting it merely to make memories would be absurd.
Even if she submitted something worthy of the top prize, she would receive no job offer, and if someone in the Planning Department simply stole the project wholesale, she wouldn’t even have grounds to complain.
“I appreciate your consideration, Section Chief, but since I’ve gone to the trouble—”
“Consideration?”
Latifa echoed the word.
At that moment, Mikoto’s mind went blank.
Sanae’s script had been for her to press for permission to enter the competition as a keepsake, and obtain it.
But perhaps Sanae had underestimated her opponent.
Or perhaps Latifa was simply in a foul mood.
Either way, the discussion began rolling in a direction that could never have been anticipated.
“Kurosu Mikoto, I am not showing consideration. I am telling you that there is no place here for a woman like you, who apparently considers work an extension of play.”
“Huh…?”
From a direction she had never expected, her pride was struck with full force.
Caught completely off guard, Mikoto couldn’t formulate a proper retort before Latifa delivered another blow.
“We’ve had your background investigated. Apparently, you happened to launch a digital memo as part of your planning and public-relations work at some third-rate company, and it happened to pass our competition. But something like that is scrap anyone could have thought up. It isn’t work that only you could do.”
“Wait a moment! It took me a great deal to bring that project into existence—”
“You worked hard? You made an effort? And therefore you want us to recognise the process rather than the results because it was difficult for you? How ridiculous. This country cannot improve its productivity because people like you believe sentimental stories like that should carry any weight.”
Behind Latifa’s glasses, her eyes flashed sharply.
Mikoto had been caught completely in the crossfire.
A furious woman had turned the full force of her anger upon her.
“Sorry about this, Kurosu-san. Our section chief gets a little irritable during her period.”
So what?
Mikoto desperately held back the words as she searched for something to say in protest.
But Latifa spoke first.
“Is your objective the Hibiya name? Or Hibiya’s single men? Do you dream of being fawned over while barely doing any work, then happily retiring after marriage and settling into a life as a housewife? Do you think this is some kind of mixer for hunting men?”
“Of course not!”
“Don’t talk back when you’re only from a third-rate company!”
Latifa slammed her hand against the table.
Mikoto nearly burst into tears.
It was hardly surprising. She was being attacked from a completely incomprehensible angle.
But she had no intention of revealing the truth about her private life here.
Nor did she want to.
“Women like you, who think they’d be perfectly happy to settle for being housewives, are the reason women aren’t taken seriously! Stop relying on other people!”
“D-don’t make assumptions about me!”
“It’s obvious! You don’t take work seriously, which is why you can talk about entering a competition just for the memories! Don’t make a mockery of this! Get out!”
“Guh…!”
It was complicated.
Mikoto couldn’t easily say that Latifa was entirely wrong.
Her words were profoundly old-fashioned, and saturated with prejudice and assumptions, but Mikoto had certainly encountered women like that among her own colleagues.
Their dream was to become housewives. Their workplace was merely somewhere to sit until marriage.
It might look like a step backwards in the modern age, but that too was a perfectly legitimate life choice.
“Honestly, Yanase really has terrible taste in women…”
“Hey, Michelle? Yanase’s that one, right? The former senior who left the company and then got married?
“Y-yes… I believe so… Yanase Toko from General Affairs…”
“Don’t go saying she’s gross, Remi. That’s, like, seriously problematic these days.”
“Who cares? She’s gross. That’s exactly the kind of woman who drags her private life into work.”
“Can’t say she’s wrong there.”
And then came the vicious abuse directed at Sanae.
Every word was a knife, sharp enough to cut Mikoto herself.
“Anyway, there is no place for you here. We will not prepare one. Leave immediately.”
With that final order from Latifa, Mikoto left the sanctum of the Secretary Division.
What dominated Mikoto’s thoughts was neither anger at having her work ridiculed nor sadness at the way Sanae and women like her had been attacked.
It was something else.
A will that had begun quietly simmering somewhere inside her.
The question of whether to accept a fight that had been thrown at her at an exorbitant price was, in truth, settled in an instant.
On her way home, Mikoto called Sanae without a moment’s hesitation.
“…Hello. How did it go?”
“Sanae-san. I’m doing it.”
“Doing what?”
Mikoto drew a deep breath.
She steeled herself.
“I’m going to show those women in the Secretary Division exactly what I’m capable of.”