#87: Impossible / ep.1
“Did you bring the presentation materials?”
“Got ’em!”
“What if you lose them?”
“I’ve saved them to USB and the cloud!”
“What about the kiss before you leave?”
“…We already did that!”
Her reply to the final check came a fraction slower than the others, but Mikoto had completed her last point-and-call inspection at the entrance to her home in Kyōdō.
It was time for the farewell at the front door. Mimosa was wriggling and meowing in Shandy’s arms, apparently unable to measure the appropriate distance between herself and a cat she owned. After giving Mimosa one last stroke before heading out, Mikoto had done her part, and the cat immediately leapt from her owner’s arms as though her business here was concluded.
Shandy really was hopeless at winning her own cat’s affection.
“So today you’re heading over to Hibiya’s headquarters?”
“That’s right. All I have to do is hand the materials to someone in the Planning Department. Simple as that.”
Mikoto told a small lie, just enough to keep Shandy from figuring out what she was really planning.
It had all started the night before. She had grown tired of staying home and gone for a solitary walk around Kyōdō at night.
“As I’m sure you understand, it would be no exaggeration to say that the Planning Department is under the control of the Secretary Division. Not after what happened with the former head of the department.”
Sanae’s voice over the phone was faster than usual. It was more than enough to convey how desperate the situation had become.
The Secretary Division was a small, elite unit of four, even excluding their spy, Akazawa. There was no hope of beating them head-on, and even if Mikoto tried to catch them off guard, she had no idea what that opening or weakness might be. On her own, she was completely stuck.
“I don’t really see how I have any chance of winning.”
“No. Which is why we’re going to launch a surprise attack.”
“We are?”
Sanae sighed in exasperation.
“You are.”
Mikoto’s stomach hurt just thinking about it.
She was being told to launch a surprise attack, but the Secretary Division were the ones who had sprung a surprise attack on her in the first place. They had sent Sanae to Shizuoka and unilaterally destroyed Mikoto’s informal offer, giving them a history she could hardly forget.
“You don’t mean I should just march into the Secretary Division, do you…?”
“It’s more or less the same thing. I’ll explain.”
What Sanae was proposing, in short, was to organise a resistance movement within Hibiya.
Mikoto had not heard the word resistance since studying world history at school, and it was making it rather difficult to take in anything else she was being told. Being informed so bluntly that things had become this serious made her stomach ache even more.
Apparently unaware of the suffering she was causing Mikoto, Sanae continued in her usual calm voice.
“Your mission, Mikoto-san, is to slip your own proposal into the competition. If we establish the fact that Kurosu Mikoto participated in Hibiya’s planning competition, it will make it more difficult for the Secretary Division to interfere.”
“Then I can just attach it to an email and send it?”
“That would be insufficient. You need to place it directly on the Planning Department head’s desk. Quietly, without being discovered by them.”
“No, no, this isn’t a spy film…”
“This is work, not a film. And I cannot stress enough that you must tell no one.”
And so, following Sanae’s instructions, Mikoto awoke to the morning of her mission.
Mikoto had one mission.
Infiltrate Hibiya’s headquarters, protected by security systems. Make her way to the Planning Department without being noticed by anyone under the Secretary Division’s influence. Leave the complete set of materials on the department head’s desk.
And, incidentally, she must not let Shandy find out, either.
“Hm. For a supposedly simple job, it’s rather strange, isn’t it?”
Shandy’s instincts were frighteningly sharp. Mikoto had to force down the cold sweat that threatened to betray her.
“What’s strange about it?”
“Going out of your way to carry nothing but documents somewhere in this day and age.”
“Well, we are working from home at the moment.”
Shandy was right. In reality, all the other employees had to do was send their proposals to the competition organisers by email or chat.
Even physical samples and model mock-ups that could not be submitted digitally were being sent by post wherever possible.
But Mikoto’s objective was not to participate in the competition.
Her objective was to establish the fact that Kurosu Mikoto, an outsider, had participated in Hibiya’s planning competition.
“Sanae-san is apparently enjoying a nice, lovey-dovey work-from-home arrangement herself.”
Shandy had no idea what had happened to Sanae.
This plan was a secret. Naturally, Mikoto had also been instructed to keep quiet about Sanae being sent to Hamamatsu. Lying to Shandy was painful, but there was something Mikoto absolutely had to prove.
That she was someone who could accomplish things on her own.
That she was an independent person worthy of standing beside Shandy.
“There are some samples, so I thought I’d bring those along. And while I’m there, I’m thinking of submitting about three new proposals as well.”
Putting on an air of calm, Mikoto glanced at the brown envelope sticking out of her bag.
Inside was a surviving relic from her days at Meiji Stationery: a sample of Shavings Potpourri. Inside a small soda-glass bottle were wood shavings infused with three original aroma blends Rinko had created through endless trial and error.
Shandy took one look at the envelope and seemed satisfied.
“Ah, because they’re breakable. It would be a disaster if something happened to them in the post.”
“Exactly. Right, I’m off.”
“Ah, Mikoto?”
The hand gripping the doorknob trembled.
Her opponent was Shandy. The fact that she appeared satisfied might simply have been a feint.
Mikoto turned around nervously, only to find Shandy’s amber eyes curved into crescent moons right in front of her.
“You forgot something.”
In an instant, Shandy tugged Mikoto’s mask aside. She gently caught Mikoto’s exposed lips between her own.
The little bird kisses were like a thorough massage of her lips, pecking delicately over and over.
Watching Mikoto wobble from the sheer length of the caress, Shandy smiled happily.
“I-I already got my going-away kiss…”
“This is instead of lip gloss. Are they moisturised now?”
The hidden pitfall of mask-wearing.
When you avoided lip gloss because you did not want it transferring onto your mask, the natural colour of your lips suffered. So perhaps this was Shandy’s excuse for pretending to be lipstick or lip balm instead.
“Just put some lip balm on me…”
“No. I wanted to improve the colour in your entire face.”
Mikoto’s reflection in the hall mirror was, needless to say, bright red.
It was less a healthy flush than blood rushing to her head. She slapped her cheeks to pull herself together, determined not to let herself fall for Shandy all over again.
“Fufu. Much better. You’ve got a lovely face now.”
“I-I’m off…!”
Mikoto stepped outside and breathed in the fresh air.
She would have liked to cover not just her mouth but her entire face with her mask, but this was no time to lose herself in the happy problems Shandy had caused her. She had an important mission.
“I’ve got to do my best. For everyone’s sake.”
She psyched herself up as she walked through the streets of Kyōdō.
Today, Mikoto was a female spy battling the Secretary Division.
With the theme song from some famous spy film playing in her head, she boarded the train that arrived right on schedule and set off for Shimbashi.
Meanwhile…
“You’re hiding something, aren’t you? Don’t you think so, Mimosa?”
Freed from Shandy’s arms, Mimosa stretched out luxuriously and yawned from the top level of her cat tower.
“You’re awfully full of yourself. I wonder who you got that from?”
“Mrow.”
“Well, I suppose you can’t help it. The real problem is the little cat who’s keeping secrets.”
Shandy quietly closed her eyes and retraced the events of that morning.
Had there been anything suspicious about Mikoto?
The day they had held a drinking party at Hibiya headquarters.
The day offering her help had resulted in a little quarrel.
The day Mikoto had suddenly run out of the house.
And this morning.
“Hmm… I feel like I’m overlooking something…”
Even after thinking it through, there had been nothing particularly suspicious about Mikoto’s behaviour. She had seemed nervous since last night, but that was only because she was going to Hibiya.
With her eyes closed, Shandy arranged the information in her mind.
What had Mikoto been like at home?
In the living room.
In the bathroom.
In bed.
There should have been no particular change, and yet it felt as though something was missing.
“Oh, Aoi-chan. I forgot about her.”
Shandy finally remembered.
Mikoto’s cousin and houseguest, Kurosu Aoi, had said she was going to Kotone’s house, and it had already been a week without her coming home.
“Well, if she’s at Kotone-san’s, she’ll be fine. Now then, what shall I do today…?”
With that, the mystery that had been nagging at the back of Shandy’s mind was solved.
She channel-surfed through the boring television news. Before long, her eyelids grew heavy, and her waning crescent moon gradually disappeared into the new moon.
＊
The meeting place Sanae had designated was a coffee shop counter overlooking Hibiya Trading’s headquarters building.
Mikoto sat down in the specified seat at the very end of the counter and waited.
Before she knew it, Toko had taken the seat beside her.
Mikoto had neither heard a sound nor sensed her presence. It was flawless stealth. Toko had a completely different level of commitment to this sort of thing.
“You startled me. If you’re here, please say something, Toko-san.”
Cutting Mikoto off, Toko looked around the room before solemnly announcing:
“You never know who might be listening. Also, my codename is Willow Shallow.”
“Wi… what was it?”
“I’ll explain the mission, codename Blacks.”
She had presumably decided this was some sort of spy mission.
Toko was thoroughly enjoying herself. Even her tone and choice of words sounded like a dubbed foreign television drama.
“Blacks. Sorry for the sudden summons, but I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”
“Then… the good news.”
Toko, now apparently known as Some Kind of Willow, pulled open the front of her shirt.
It looked like the opening move of a female spy’s honey trap, but beneath her clothes was neither sexy lingerie nor bare skin.
“What do female spies wear? That’s right, bondage. I wore it for the mission. Doesn’t it suit me?”
Toko was wearing black bondage gear underneath her clothes.
This, apparently, was the good news.
It certainly gave off a female-spy vibe, but there was absolutely no reason for her to have worn it under her clothes in the first place.
The gap between Sanae, the serious woman who never cut corners and always treated her work with deadly earnestness, and Toko, who used work as an excuse to do whatever she pleased, was enough to blow away Mikoto’s tension, motivation and everything else.
Still, she decided to at least follow the script.
“And the bad news?”
“I can’t go outside dressed like this. I’d be arrested by the security guards long before I got anywhere near the Secretary Division.”
“If you already know that, I think that makes it good news.”
“Aww, Mikoto-san, you’re no fun!”
Apparently tired of acting, Toko returned to her usual carefree expression and began explaining the operation.
“You’ve heard from Sanae already, I assume, but Mikoto-san, your job is to deliver the planning documents to their destination. The most important part is that you have to be the one who does it.”
Sanae had drilled that into her repeatedly.
Mikoto nodded, and Toko handed her a pass case from inside the neckline of her bondage gear.
The anonymous ID card bore neither a photograph nor a name. It had presumably been prepared by Sanae, who had even been involved in developing Hibiya’s security systems.
And, incidentally, it was faintly warm.
The warmth of a married woman’s body.
Mikoto banished the unhelpful thoughts from her mind and slipped the pass around her neck.
“Just tap the ID and you’re in. Easy-peasy!”
Mikoto did not really understand, but all she had to do was follow the instructions.
Sanae had made it sound like an insanely difficult mission, but perhaps it really was no big deal.
She was already feeling confident enough to stand a little taller.
“All right. I’ll finish it with style.”
“Kyaaa! Mikoto-san, you’re so cool!”
Mikoto parted ways with Toko, who would remain at the coffee shop in case she was needed, and headed towards the entrance of Hibiya headquarters.
Dressed in office casual and walking with the ID card she had only just been given swinging from her neck, Mikoto looked exactly like an employee of Hibiya.
With her face appropriately concealed by a mask, she blended in easily enough despite the sparse number of employees coming into the office.
The key to infiltration was not to panic.
Remain calm and natural. Walk confidently, and no one would suspect a thing.
She opened the security gate with a casual tap and walked towards the lifts, humming quietly to herself.
Piece of cake.
Far too easy.
It would all be over in a few minutes. She could get it done, then raise a celebratory toast.
Thinking that, she was about to step into the lift.
“Hm? You’re Kurosu-san, aren’t you?”
For a moment, Mikoto nearly shouted, This wasn’t part of the plan!
The person stepping out of the lift was one of the Four Heavenly Kings she had met during her hellish interview with the Secretary Division.
Among the Secretary Division, a collection of women who all seemed to be made entirely of self-assertion, she was the second-year employee who appeared the most soft-spoken.
Secretary Division, Hirose Michelle.
“You’re Kurosu Mikoto-san, aren’t you?”
“Er, um…”
“Look into my eyes…?”
Michelle stared up at her from the lift lobby.
She was not as short as Sanae, but Michelle was on the petite side too. Mikoto was accustomed to being looked up at thanks to her own height, but there was something threatening about Michelle’s eyes.
Large, round, moist eyes.
Red shadow at the corners.
The effect was accentuated by makeup that deliberately lowered the overall tone of her complexion, making her look pale and unhealthy.
The style was commonly known as jirai.
The swollen, tear-stained look was completely out of place in an office, which only made Michelle seem all the more unnatural.
She had been almost invisible among the other members of the Secretary Division, but alone with her, the pressure was overwhelming.
For some reason, Michelle would not look away.
There was no escaping her.
“M-Maybe you have the wrong person?”
“You can stay quiet, if you like…?”
“Ah, no. I’m Takahashi Marina. From Adholic…”
“The company that was absorbed into Hibiya, right?”
The identity Mikoto had blurted out, Takahashi Marina of Adholic, was the same one she had used during her previous infiltration.
Adholic still existed as one of Hibiya’s partner companies.
In other words, Michelle was testing her.
“Adholic still exists, you know?”
“Huh? Oh…?”
She had somehow managed to turn the tables.
She had not expected to come face-to-face with a Secretary Division employee so suddenly, but this much had been covered in her research.
Michelle looked confused, apparently wondering if she had remembered incorrectly.
Mikoto slipped past her and into another lift.
She frantically hammered the close button and, just when she thought she had escaped…
“…Kurosu-san?”
Michelle’s face was wedged between the two lift doors.
Her wide-open eyes had fixed themselves unmistakably on Mikoto.
“Eek!?”
“Don’t run away, please. Things like that hurt…”
The safety mechanism activated, and the doors that had begun closing slowly opened again.
Michelle stepped calmly into the lift and pressed the close button.
“Why are you running away, Kurosu-san…?”
“I’m not Kurosu!”
“…Do you hate me? I like Kurosu-san.”
Michelle smiled uncertainly.
She looked timid to the extreme, almost painfully weak, and yet an overwhelming pressure radiated from her.
Still looking up at Mikoto, Michelle caught the edge of her sleeve between her fingertips.
It was the sort of gesture a frail little girl might make when begging someone not to leave.
Yet the vague smile on her face revealed nothing about what she was really thinking.
Unlike Shandy, Michelle was unreadable in an entirely different way.
“No, this isn’t about liking or disliking you.”
“…Please give up. I can tell when people lie.”
That, too, was probably a bluff designed to make Mikoto panic and give herself away.
But Michelle’s technique did not work on her.
After being subjected to Shandy’s tricks time and time again, Mikoto had built up an immunity.
“So it’s not a lie! I’m not Kurosu Mikoto, I’m…!”
“You won’t do what I say…?”
Michelle lowered her head.
At once, something pressed against Mikoto’s chest, around the base of her collarbone.
Michelle had put her head against her.
Then, like an sulky child, she began rhythmically headbutting Mikoto.
It did not hurt, but the pressure against her chest was strangely oppressive.
Just the right amount of discomfort.
And Michelle was heavy.
In every sense of the word.
“…You really hate me, don’t you?”
“Ah, no, it’s not that. You’ve simply mistaken me for someone else…”
“You lie because you hate me.”
The words were weak, but a chill ran down Mikoto’s spine, as though someone had drawn a cold blade along it.
Every question Michelle asked was almost impossible to answer.
For someone like Mikoto, who instinctively showered everyone with the sort of indiscriminate kindness that came from not wanting to hurt anyone, Michelle was practically a natural predator.
“…Will you admit you lied?”
“No, well…”
“You really don’t want to talk to me…?”
“No, that’s not it. It’s just that I…”
“Kurosu-san isn’t even a Hibiya employee, are you? What kind of work do you do?”
Even in that feeble voice, Michelle steadily closed in.
Cornered against the side of the lift, Mikoto desperately searched for a way out.
Her opponent was small. With her basketball experience, Mikoto could probably force her way past Michelle if she had to.
But resorting to physical force would expose the infiltration.
“Er… I was called in about some work I did before…”
“…You admitted it. You admitted you’re Kurosu Mikoto.”
The cold words struck Mikoto hard in the stomach.
Despite her gentle manner and apparently timid personality, Michelle was extraordinarily persistent.
She was tenacious.
She would repeat the same question until she got the answer she wanted, then wait for the other person to give in and admit they were in the wrong.
Because…
“I… am not wrong.”
Her gaze pierced through Mikoto.
The difference between Michelle’s upturned gaze and Shandy’s was that there was neither playful distortion nor anger trembling within it.
There was simply no emotion in Michelle’s eyes.
Nothing but dead eyes, with a profound darkness stretching endlessly into the abyss.
“…Admit it. Admit you’re a liar.”
The cold words traced along Mikoto’s neck like a knife.
“Y-yes, ma’am…”
The mission had barely begun, and already the plan had gone wildly off course.
The lift was not heading for the eleventh floor, where the Planning Department was located.
It was descending towards the basement level two, wherever that might be, after Michelle had pressed the button.